Dementor Kiss
by Luss
Summary: Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to find him. And between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry discovers not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.
1. Cold

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 1 - Cold**

Henry pulled his overcoat further around himself as he continued his nightly rounds:

"It´s cold." - It was always colder in this part of Azkaban, the highest security floor where the old servers of the dark lord were locked, the pavilion of the Death Eaters.

A shudder crept up his back, from the presence of a Dementor at the other end of the hall, but the dark thing went away just a moment latter. Surely it had just dined. Sometimes Henry almost felt sorry for the prisoners.

Like every night, the guard was going from cell to cell checking that no convict had escaped, though it seemed more than that, sometimes he thought that what he actually did was check if there had been any new deaths.

He looked inside the next cell...

Like all others, this was another area of stone walls without windows, just long enough for a man lying in the floor, and with the width of a closet. A pot in the corner spelled for the needs, and a blanket, were the only furnishings. Usually, it would have also a cot, but this inmate had not been granted one.

A groan caught the attention of Henry, who came to the bars. Inside the cell under a dirty faded blanket, somebody was shaking violently, huddled on the floor.

"Lumos" - The guard held the light so it fell inside the tinny space.

The young prisoner could not have been more than twenty-four and looked ill. His skin showed a grey pallor, the result of not having seen the sun in years. Extremely thin due to the minimal rations received, and covered in dirt. His hair had turned in to something like a tangle of straw; mate and crushed, which once had been as fair as white gold. However, all this could not entirely obscure the beauty of the man. The harmony of his noble features stood out even here. The patrician nose, high cheekbones, and lips...

"What a waste." - Muttered Henry. - "So young to end here. And everything for following a monster." – He sighed in disgust.

The young man shuddered, and just barely, opened his grey as mist eyes, fogged with fever, shining through the dirty blond locks of his hair.

Draco was shivering, no matter how hard he tried to warm up; it was so very cold here...The stone of Azkaban was always wet and freezing. The icy feeling seeping in his bones through the ground where he lay, despite the blanket in with he had wrapped himself.

It had been days since he started falling really sick, but even before then he hadn´t been healthy. So little food, sleep, and rest for that. And now his whole body ached, his lungs pressed painfully against his ribs every time he caught a breath of air, forcing him to inhale less and less oxygen every time.

But the most terrible part was the cold.

It stiffened his muscles, and froze his breath. Every time he moved it was like he was being stuck with needles all over his body.

Suddenly he heard footsteps nearby, and struggled painfully to open his eyes. The only thing he could see was a blur under the light of what he believed was a wand. A guard.

Henry moved a few steps nearer, almost to the bars, and looked more closely at the prisoner. What was his name?

"Malfoy?"

Draco was dizzy, he thought he was being called but could not be sure.

"Hey, can you hear me?"

He could not get enough air, felt his consciousness slipping away. But… there was something important he had to say.

Malfoy seemed to be trying to say something, but from his went blue lips no more than disjointed mutterings, too weak to be interpreted, surged.

"I don´t understand what you are trying to say."

Draco couldn't breathe; the cold seemed to have crept into his lungs, freezing them. The darkness began to invade his vision, and soon, what he had to say didn´t matter anymore. As his eyelids closed again and his body started going limp, his last thought:

"It's so cold" -And then, darkness.

"Hey!" - But Malfoy had fallen asleep again. Henry sighed in exasperation and got up to continue the round. "Surely he will be dead by tomorrow." - And he could not help but feel sorry for the young mist eyed boy.

* * *

The sun of the first hour of the morning lit up the meadow and the forest, slowly washing the clearing from the nightly mist.

It was quiet and lazy in the place, except for a single creature, which was crossing the lawn in a race, running for the strange house that dominated the centre of the meadow. The old wooden structure, unpainted, growing on two floors and an attic, looked a bit misplaced. The weevil, black slate roof and the chimney, which puffed a nice white smoke, along with a small porch and tiny shed, completed the construction that looked extremely cluttered and homey.

Harry loved to run.

Like every morning, he was now out touring the countryside around his home. The powerful movement of the muscles when you force yourself to the fullest, the beating of your heart while the ground flies beneath your feet, the rhythm of the breath, the wind touching your face ... were feelings that he loved.

For Harry, there was no better way to start the day.

The last seven years had been good. The skinny boy had grown to six feet five, and the constant exercise had given him a strong and powerful body, which nevertheless retained the flexibility of a seeker. Unfortunately, much to the chagrin of the senior members of the ministry, who would love to exploit the fame of the Auror, Harry continued to prefer comfortable clothes, his glasses, and sneakers, more than the expensive suits he could afford if wanted.

Finally, the dark haired man slowed to a stop against the back door of the house. Wiped the sweat from his forehead and inhaled the scent that came through the open door: "Looks like Kreacher made pancakes." – The smell made his mouth water, just from remembering the delicious taste of good pancakes lavished in butter.

Hermione couldn´t stop pacing around the kitchen. - "Where was Harry?" -She had being waiting half an hour already…

At the sound of the door the said one came running, shirt and shorts glued to the body with sweat, and hair like a nest for birds, black and ruffling.

"Hello Hermione. I didn´t know you were coming." – Harry smiled at his friend, as he approached the table for the breakfast that Kreacher had left for him. The old elf always disappear whenever Hermione was at home, he couldn´t bear a "Mudblood" staining the house of his master and giving him talks about freedom. Um ... pancakes, his favourite.

"You can´t tell because you're never at home when we call! Kinghsley has send for us an hour ago!"

"Sorry, I was jogging; you know I always run before going to the ministry. Is it very urgent?" - Harry looked sadly to the pancakes; it seemed that he would not have time for breakfast.

Hermione became serious.

Her curly hair was tied in a ponytail at the nape of her neck to avoid being bothered by it at work, but some locks had escaped and framed her face, just like they had done when they were younger. Mione hadn´t grown much since then, and only the rounded curves of a woman's body betrayed her age at first sight. But her eyes were other matter entirely; they looked serious and so much older than they had when the three of them had been at school. Even if it wasn´t only her gaze the one so aged. She, Harry and Ron had seen too much during the war, things they could not tolerate, horrible things. The things that made them become Aurors, so they could prevent something like them from ever happening again to anyone. And the passion that drove the friends had made their team the best at their work.

Most of the time they could act as now, as if nothing had happened, but few could understand the pain they shared.

"Harry, I think it's serious." - The tone of her voice made Harry enter his duty mind set instantly.

"Wait a moment, I'll change." – The dark haired auror climbed the stairs two at a time, to his room. Quickly pulling off his dirty clothes, and throwing them in the corner where he knew Kreacher would pick them later, to put on the Auror uniform just after a hasty cleansing spell. Five minutes later he was back in the kitchen.

"What about Ron?" – Asked as he prepared to enter the chimney.

"He is already waiting at the office. To the ministry! – She screamed. And the two of them disappeared in a cloud of green smoke.

* * *

Finally the three arrived at Kinghsleys office .

Behind his solid black wooden desk, the minister of magic closed the report he had been reading.

"Take a seat." - Harry took the chair in the centre with Hermione and Ron on each side. Ron was still higher than Harry by about an inch, and undoubtedly heavier, but cute freckles and red hair made him look friendlier than his built suggested.

Kingsley gave the report to Hermione, the brains of the team, and she began to read it while Kinghsley started speaking:

"I have sent for you, because this case could be very complicate, and because you already know the subject. Three days ago, Draco Malfoy escaped from his cell in Azkaban."

"No way! Malfoy?!"

"Auror Wesley I assure you that if that wasn´t the case, you wouldn´t be here." - Kinghsley replied quite annoyed by the interruption.

Harry nudged his friend, and Hermione shot a look so chilled his way, that Ron fell silent at once.

"Please continue Kinghsley." - Harry hastened to add. Nevertheless Kingsley threw a stern look at them.

"Well. We know he has escaped from his cell, but we also know that he has not left the prison. The external alarms weren´t skipped, so he has to be somewhere inside. This in itself may not seem dangerous, but if he opens more cells it could lead to a riot or a mass breakout of prisoners. And if he has managed to open his own, nothing says he can´t open the rest. The guards have done everything possible to find him, so far without results. But since food has been disappearing from the kitchens, we know he has to be alive."

"But if he went to the kitchen for food, how come he hasn´t been caught?" - Harry was surprised. Malfoy escaping Azkaban? Still, he couldn´t believe coward could have emulated the feat of his godfather, Sirius Black, even if only in part.

"He's very slippery. We don´t know how he makes it. And if people knew there´s a possibility that murderers and criminals could escape from Azkaban again, panic would spread. We need you to find him as soon as possible. The guards have already been informed of your arrival."

"We will find him." - And the determination that hardened Harry's eyes was like the signal all they needed to get up and leave the office.

"May you have a lucky hunt." -Kinghsley wondered why he had the feeling that this mission was much more than it seemed.

Hermione was still engrossed in reading the report as they walked to the floo area, and Ron couldn´t seem to stop gesturing.

"I can´t believe the coxcomb has escaped! Elusive as the ferret he is."

"Calm down Ron. We're here for that, right? We take him, discover how he has made it so it doesn't happen again, and lock him back." - Harry tried to mute the iron feeling in Rons words.

"I don´t know if it will be so easy Harry." - Hermione stopped and looked up from the set of papers she held. – "He's been eluding trained guards for days, no one has seen him, no one has heard him. It´s like he doesn´t exist. Malfoy isn´t going to be easy to find." – Ron´s snort interrupted her:

"HA! As soon as I find him, he´s going to wish he had never left his cell."

"Ron Wesley! Our job is not to punish him, is to capture him. Leave your personal vendettas out of the case." - Hermione cut in.

Harry sighed.

These two were always the same.

Finally, they came to the chimney. The place was very busy at this hour of the morning; workers still arriving to the ministry or coming out of their jobs, people who came at trials, to collect documents etc. It took them a bit to find an open fireplace, especially when some passers-by recognized them, and tried to get close to greet the friends. Even after seven years, the heroes of the wizarding world still attracted attention. But finally, they managed to get into one, and be identified, before being accepted by the floo that lead to Azkaban.

* * *

Harry stumbled and nearly fell to the ground, but managed to keep the balance at the last moment, floo travel had never been easy for him.

After him came Ron and Hermione.

The room in which they appeared had stone walls, and no windows. The place was lit by several torches, but it was so cold…Harry furrowed further in his coat. It looked like they were inside the guards break room.

Easy to identify by the table and the chairs, and because near the door hung a prison guard uniform coat.

The door opened one second lather after the floo had gone off, giving way to Henry and another man in his forties that had to be his partner. The haughty eyes of the other man, overrun by greying brown hair, disturbed Harry at once. Even if the guard was not very big, with a similar eight to that of Harry and dressing immaculately, unlike Henry, who looked nice and friendly, underlined by a slight disorder of his clothes and dark brown hair, the auror detected something dangerous in him at once. And immediately wondered why a man like that, clearly not in a frame of mind good for living in such a place, was working in Azkaban.

In that moment Henry stepped forward to shake his hand:

"Welcome to Azkaban. I'm sorry it has to be in these circumstances, but we are delighted to have your help. My name is Henry Davidson and this is my friend and work partner Thomas Clearwater." -Harry was quick to shake hands.

"I'm auror Potter, they are auror Weasley and auror Granger, but you can call us by Harry, Ron and Hermione." - Henry smiled.

"So you're going to hunt Malfoy?"

"Yes, indeed."

"Excuse me." - Hermione intercepted- "Could you tell us what you know about Malfoy? Did something happen before his disappearance? No matter if it seems insignificant, no one know what can be a clue." – She took out a notebook, and her magical feather.

The guard inclined his head in thought for a second, and then seemed to remember something as his face took in a grimace of something very much like pain.

"Well, the day before his disappearance, I'd swear he was dying. Do you know? He looked very sick, could not stop shaking, and I think he tried to say something ... but fell asleep. I didn´t catch a thing, so I can´t tell what. But ... It´s very strange, because he out to be dead already." – Ron opened his mouth to reply something Harry knew wouldn´t be polite, and asked before his friend could say a word.

"Can you show us the cell in with was incarcerated Malfoy?"- Ron was a good auror, but his strength was in the chasing, not the speaking to the witnesses part.

"Of course, come this way." - Hermione wrote it all down.

Henry walked to the door, but Thomas remained behind.

"Are you coming?"- The first guard asked.

"No, I have yet to make my rounds." –Thomas answered coolly, before taking the other way of the corridor without even saying goodbye.

"Okay, be careful." - But Thomas had already twisted the corner without taking another glance their way.

"He´s always like that?" - Asked Ron. Henry started walking followed by them.

"Well, he has reasons to be, Death Eaters killed his entire family."- Silence followed the words, shutting all conversation until the group finally arrived at a tiny cell, with only a pot and a torn and dirty blanket inside.

"This is the cell." -Henry took out a key from his pocket and opened the iron rusty gate, so they could all look inside.

Harry gazed into the small room, more like a closet, in which Malfoy had live for the last seven years, with a growing sense of disgust. Hermione seemed to be experiencing a similar reaction, although Ron only had a small smile on his face. The only woman pulled out her wand with practiced ease and magically started scanning the place.

"This will take a while; maybe you two could start investigating the surroundings as I work." – Immediately Henry came to her side like a protective dog.

"Don´t worry, I'll guard her."- Hermione rolled her eyes, men, why everyone thought she needed protection?

"Hermione, Is that okay?" - Asked Ron, eager to get out and start looking for the elusive ferret, but not so much as to leave his friend alone.

"Yeah, yeah. We will manage." - She knew that Harry and Ron worked better if there was no third party interfering, and that was for Henry. Sure he knew the place well, but he would be a nuisance if not needed. So she resigned herself to the role of woman in need of protection. Such idiots, she though fondly.

Harry and Ron began to advance down the corridor until they reached an intersection.

"We will cover more ground if we split." - Said Harry.

"Sounds good, I'll go over there." - Ron turned to the left. - "If you see him, give me a sign. I don´t want to miss his face when we catch the ferret." - Harry nodded.

"I don´t think we will catch him in the first round. We don´t even know how he got out of the cell." - Ron snorted dismissing the pessimistic words.

"We will see. Good hunting mate." - And walked down the corridor right on the gloom. Harry turned to the right and looked behind him one final time, Ron had disappeared from view.

"Good hunting." - He murmured in reply, and stepped into the shadows of his own hall.

Harry changed his stance to that of a stalker the instant he started searching. His steps so silent not even the dust rose from the ground, moving from shadow to shadow maximizing the cover he took from the darkness in the corridor, like an enormous cat.

All his senses alert to every sound, movement and smell of the environment. Bit by bit the corridor started becoming dimmer; he noticed the torches were off, and that the prisoners of this section seemed all asleep, or too scared to get out from under their blankets.

He began to move more carefully. Could Malfoy have caused this? A little ahead the hallway twisted into a corner. Harry raised his head and looked toward the wall that hided at the end of the gloomy hallway. He could smell salty sea freeze, and here the atmosphere seemed less tainted.

"Lumos." - His wand lit the wall very dimly like a little spark, so he was the only one to see it, and who ever could be there didn´t take notice. There was a door. He walked over and grabbed the doorknob feather light.

"Nox."- A whispered word, slowly turning the handle. The door was open.

A gust of wind brushed the hair from his face, and the evening light blinded him for a moment. It seemed he had found an old exit, the door opened onto a small terrace of stone from which descended a staircase, but this had fallen off at some point in the history of the building, and now instead of giving to the floor below, as it should, the broken steps were hanging over an abyss that ended in the jagged rocks of the seashore. From here he could see the open sea illuminated by the red light of the dying sun.

Harry felt a chill creeping across his back:

"So cold." – Pressed the wand to his coat for a heat spell, when suddenly, his eyes caught a movement at the corner of his gaze. To his right he could see part of the roof of the prison flushed with light, and there, on the slope that it formed, a group of dementors.

His figures were dark, dressed in threadbare clothes washed by the sea wind, whispering, with a chilling sound that made him shudder. They seemed to be gathered around something. He walked to the railing to see better, yes, he saw what was in the middle.

Clothes, worn and torn by the wind, snow-white robes, a Dementor. A white Dementor.

**It will continue.**


	2. White

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Note: **Thanks for your reviews, they are the combustible that keeps this fic going. ;)

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 2 – White**

_His figures were dark, dressed in threadbare clothes washed by the sea wind, whispering, with a chilling sound that made him shudder. They seemed to be gathered around something. Harry walked to the railing to see better, yes, he saw what was in the middle._

_Clothes, worn and torn by the wind, snow-white robes, a Dementor. A white Dementor._

* * *

The creature, smaller and more fragile than the rest, seemed to be shaking slightly, while the other dementors studied him closely, even gently touching his robe. Just, so barely, carefully, as if afraid to hurt him.

It was incredibly strange.

Harry would never have believed the dementors able to act with such gentleness, if he wasn´t watching it now.

The auror moved closer to the railing, putting his hand on it, totally fascinated by the beauty of the scene.

The pallor of his robe, his slenderness, the way his shoulders shook but remained upright, fearless, raised his curiosity. An icy air blast struck him waving his coat, the movement seeming to draw the attention of the dementors, that turned to face him. Harry grabbed harder his wand and took a defensive position. Theoretically he wasn´t a prisoner and shouldn´t be attacked, but it wouldn´t be the first time one of these creatures had confronted him for no reason. However, the grim monsters didn´t move from their position on the roof, and Harry was allowed to slightly relax his pose.

The white one had turned too, but under the shadow of the hood his face couldn´t be seen, not at that distance. And although he supposed it couldn´t look any different from the common nightmarish look of a Dementor, Harry found it hard to imagine the white one hiding something so hideous. Somehow that that seeming delicate creature might look so horrible, seemed just wrong. A very estrange thought to be having, Harry toll himself, and shook his head to get rid of it.

He was just thinking this kind of things, because he had come work without taking any breakfast. That had to be it. Hungry nonsense.

Suddenly a white light made otter appeared before the Auror, almost nose to nose. Startled, Harry took a step back.

Hermione's Patronus smiled slightly: "I've finished with the scans, meet me at the guards restroom in a quarter hour" The otter made a bow in the air and shot out, probably looking for Ron.

"Well, I better go back." - With one last glance at the pale apparition, the dark haired auror walked back inside.

* * *

"You're late." - Hermione said without looking away from the huge map that almost filled the entire table.

Harry sighed, it had taken him nearly half an hour to find his way back to the guards break room. Azkaban was practically a maze, it wasn´t his fault if he ended getting lost.

Miraculously, Ron had made his way back before him and was now sitting beside the fireplace, frowning at having to return without having found anything. Seriously, sometimes his best friend behaved like a child.

Mione, beside Henry, was looking at something in the large piece of parchment half-eaten by time.

"It wasn't my fault, Hermione, this prison is like a labyrinth." - Harry signed and turned painfully in her direction, just wanting to avoid being scowled.

"Next time at least send your Patronus to warn us. Something could have gone wrong without we knowing it…"

"Is that a map of Azkaban?" – Harry asked trying to change the subject, coming nearer to see it better.

Hermione didn´t say anything, but frowned, starting to explain.

"It´s this prisons map. I asked Henry to take it out so we could become familiar with it and organize for better search." – The black haired auror took note of the complex network of corridors. It would be complicated to register so much space.

"Have you found something with the scanners?"

Mione got serious frowning slightly in concentration, as if something was bothering her.

"Has anything happened?" Asked Harry.

"The results of the scans I've done in the cell… - she said seriously. - Nothing. I can´t find a trace of Malfoys magical signature, or any other for that matter. The door hasn´t been forced. The guards had already been interrogated with verisaterum when we moved here, so they didn´t open it. I don´t know, is like Malfoy was eaten by air itself. - She bit her lower lip slightly. - I know I´m missing something, you can´t disappear like that. I will go to the ministry later, surely in the library I can find a spell that will allow a more thorough scan. Perhaps then we will have something to look at."

"While you are at the ministry, Ron and I can start searching seriously. - He looked at the map in concentration, and waved at Henry. – Explain. What's the configuration of the prison?" - Henry stood by his side:

"As I was saying to your companion, Azkaban is like a maze. It was designed so, for that in case of escape, the prisoner wouldn´t have it easy." - Ron finally got up reluctantly, taking special care in making them realize he was still sulking. But he got the other side of Henry nonetheless, to study the map.

"The ground floor contains the guard bedrooms, the kitchens, the interrogation rooms, laundry room and the one intended for visits. - He pointed to each one- This is the only plant that is well organized. Now, the problem is when you raise or lower from this level. In the basement are located the cells of nearly all magical creatures, - Henry said as he touched a complicated network of passages beneath their floor that spread four levels underground. - Vampires, werewolves, veela ... they are enclosed by level of risk. The deeper floor contains the most dangerous and so on up to the ground just below us. Each level is isolated from the rest by thick silver magically enhanced doors, since silver affects almost all magical creatures. They can only be opened with the appropriate passwords and keys. - He gestured to the plant immediately above the one occupied. - This is the first floor. Here we have the thieves, pickpockets, smugglers ... people that will be coming out shortly. The security here is lower. Reinforced and enchanted metal doors isolate this level of others. Then there is the second floor, here are the murderers, rapists ... the kind of people sentenced for life. It´s very similar to the previous, isolated and labyrinthine. From here the security is rather high, be careful with the Dementors, they will be around the third and fourth floors. The third is mostly dark wizards and particularly dangerous individuals, and the fourth, the Death Eaters. From there escaped Malfoy. Spell detectors, dementors, magical doors almost impossible to open... I don´t know how he managed it."

"And this area, here?" - Harry touched a tower whose sole entry appeared to be on the fourth floor, and whose interior was not detailed. Henry looked concerned at it.

"That´s the Dementors tower, there´s where they live."- The words came, nearly forced.

"And no one has searched inside?" -Hermione looked closely at the structure and location of it.

"No, we haven´t registered it. The Dementors live there, no one in their right mind would go inside, it´s suicidal."

"I don´t think seven years in Azkaban will leave you too sane." - Hermione has begun to see where her friend was going.

"If he had tried, they would have devoured him. - Henry frowned. - You aren´t thinking in going there, no?"

"I think we should. If no one has been looking inside, is the more likely place for Malfoy to be hidden." – Pressed Harry. Hermione looked at him approvingly.

"Yea, we should start there."- And nodded.

Henry sighed.

"In that case, you need to ask permission to the Dementor Lord."

"The Lord Dementor? - The curly haired witch looked intrigued to take a new and interesting piece of information. - I've never read anything about him."

"He´s the Dementors leader, and the only one that understands our language. When requesting assistance from the Dementors, is with him that we must speak. Mediates between wizards and dementors. When they began to work in Azkaban was agreed that the tower would be for them, no one can enter without his consent. That's why we haven´t registered it, is virtually impossible to enter there. Not without him knowing."

Hermione bit her lower lip like she was accustomed to do every time she was thinking.

"Hmm ... I see. But it´s still necessary that we make sure Malfoy isn´t there." - What if, as the guards, they assumed that such thing wasn´t possible and in the end Malfoy was there? The best thing was to be completely sure.

"I agree with Hermione, it would be best to start there." – Harry, only to himself, and a little shyly, admitted that his reasons for wanting to get there weren´t entirely mission related. The image of a strange white dementor floating by his mind.

Was he in the tower? He was curious to know more about this creature; he wanted to see him again. Even if just deciding not to analyse the whys and hows, for wanting such a thing.

"Okay, we should better go in the morning, I will not venture to the tower at night." Henry would prefer not to approach it entirely, but if he had to, he definitely preferred to do so during the day.

The Aurors nodded.

"Well, let's see how we organize the guards in the kitchen." - Harry looked at his friends.

"Guards in the kitchen? - Ron asked bewildered.- Why should we want to guard the kitchen?"

"Because he have to eat, and eventually will go there, Ron."- Hermione said tired already. The redhead nodded as he understood, and then smiled.

"I want to take the first call of the night."

"Sounds good, I'll do the second. Do you want to take the third Hermione? If you're going to the ministry in the morning, at least your sleep will not be disrupted to pieces." –Harry suggested.

"Yes, better that way. So you will speak to the Dementor Lord?" - She felt a little sorry for not being able to be present in the meeting, but if she didn´t go to the library, it would take twice as much time getting the new spell, and this was a mission in which time was essential. The longer it took to find Malfoy, the more opportunities he would have to open other cells and create an even worse situation.

They would have to make life in Azkaban until they managed to find the elusive blonde.

Living in the cold and wet guard rooms of Azkaban. "Yippy."

**It will continue**


	3. Soft

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Note: **Little by little this keeps going; maybe someday I will finish it. ^^ Special thanks for you, **yoaifanfake** for cheering me up. ;) And don´t worry **vampira 612** I´m just editing the fic. ^^

I present:

**The Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 3 – Soft**

_They would have to make life in Azkaban until they managed to find the elusive blonde._

_Living in the cold and wet guard rooms of Azkaban. __"Yippy."_

* * *

The barely hot dinner served in the guard room, didn´t look too appealing.

After all, their food and that of the prisoners came from the same kitchen. And while the dinner the prison elves brought for them, was substantially better, it was still rather... poor.

Soup with more salt than was needed, and something that Harry thought was supposed to have been a poor chicken at some point, before becoming charcoal. He hadn't thought it possible, but this showed that a house-elf could, effectively, have no idea of cooking.

"Can we start eating?" - Henry was eager to sink his teeth in the food, being accustomed to it already and hungry since he hadn´t eaten since breakfast.

"Aren´t we going to wait for your partner?" - Asked Ron, as they sat at the table and began to pour some soup in their plates.

"Tomas has decided to dine in his room. He doesn't feel comfortable among strangers." Henry smiled apologetically, as he took a rickety piece of poultry for himself.

"It's okay." - Harry sipped a spoonful of soup trying not to grimace. During the war they had had worse to eat, after all. But… even so, he couldn´t stop the image of Kreachers abandoned pancakes, from appearing in his mind.

He tried thinking about something else.

"By the way, Hermione, since you are going to the ministry tomorrow, could you stop by my house and ask Kreacher to throw me a suitcase for a couple of days? We would have to stay here until Malfoy is found."

Mione nodded.

"Sure, no problem. Do you want for me to visit your house too, Ron?"

"It will be better. Could you advise mom that I'll be out for a few days, right?" Hermione made an affirmative gesture with a hand, while trying to take a nip out of her burned chicken slice. A rather challenging exercise, since it was hard as a rock. But she managed somewhat.

The rest of the dinner was held peacefully. The dirty dishes disappeared in their way to the kitchen, and the Aurors were left with Henry, trying to settle in the living room floor.

"I'm sorry you have to sleep here. We have only a couple of guard rooms, and the ones that actually can be used are already occupied." - Henry felt terrible, making the heroes of the wizarding world sleep on the floor.

But when he offered to leave them his room, the aurors had rejected his proposal, saying that they had already slept in worse places than the guards rest room. Even so, he couldn´t stop the little guilty feeling inside.

The elves had brought three of the free pallets of the prisoners, but they weren't what one would call soft and comfortable. Though their thickness protected them from the cold stone floor, which was something.

They put them near the fireplace to be warmer at night, and where dressing them with some blankets, when Ron looked at the old clock hanging on the wall.

"It's time for my watch. -His smile stretched cruelly- We will see if I can hunt a ferret."- His knuckles cracked like preparing for it.

Hermione chose to turn a deaf ear to the comment. Really, if their friend persisted in behaving like a child, she wasn´t going to be correcting him all the time like she was his mother, or something equally bothersome. There were more pressing matters to attend to.

"Good luck." - Said Harry. And Ron, accompanied by Henry, raised his thumb in reply, in his way to the kitchen.

Once alone, Harry and Hermione took off their coats to go to bed, but not before throwing a couple of detector spells. Malfoy wasn't likely to come near the guard rooms, but desperate people made crazy things, and it was better to be prepared. They wrapped themselves with the clean, yet old and worn blankets that the elves had provided. It seemed that everything in Azkaban was dying, even the blankets. And tried to sleep.

-Good night, Harry. Nox. - She muttered, turning off the lights.

-Good night, Hermione.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

It had been an hour since they had lain down.

And Harry could hear the quiet breathing of Hermione, coming from the pallet beside him. Sleeping soundly. But he couldn't seem to sleep.

Finally, taking the hint that the nap he was waiting for, was unlikely to come in the next few minutes, Harry sighed to himself. - "If I'm not going to sleep, I should be doing something useful at least."

Quietly, the auror got rid of the blankets in which he was graphed, retrieved his coat and shoes, and left the room closing carefully the door in his wake. Not wanting to wake his friend.

The dark hallway lit by torches, silent, damp, didn´t look much different at night. Especially since there weren't any windows, to let the moon light make any difference. The lighting never changed here. Only the drop in the temperature, and the lower number of laments, could reveal that, in fact, it was night.

A shudder shook his frame:

"So cold." – He muttered, throwing his coat the heat spell that he hadn't conjured that morning.

For a moment he thought in going to the kitchen with Ron, but he didn´t want to listen to his best friend's constant hate chat about Malfoy. If he went, he would surely end up with a headache.

"I can always re-register the cell." - He said to himself. Surely he wouldn't find anything new, but at least he would be doing something.

* * *

The vision of the small, dirty room, dimly lighted by the torches of the hall was depressing. How could have someone like Malfoy survive in such a place? He tried to imagine the proud Slytherin freezing cold, sitting on the damp stone floor, dirty, hungry. The vision made him nauseous. It reminded him too much of Sirius.

He looked at the other inmates of the hall and had to grit his teeth.

"No, they deserve it. They are here for their crimes" He made himself deaf to the voice telling him that Sirius had been innocent. "This has been a bad idea, I have better go back and try to grab some sleep" He started to walk back…

A sound, a whisper, put Harry on alert.

In a moment he was seeking refuge in the shadows, hiding. Crouching slightly, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"Malfoy?"

He tried sneaking up on the source of the faint murmur. Not hearing anything else, not the pleas of the prisoners, not their unconnected babbling, just that whisper... He recognized it a moment lather. A Dementor. Did they guard Azkaban so late in the night? Well, it wasn´t like Dementors needed to rest. Did they? He thought about asking Hermione about it.

The truth was he never had bothered to find out anything about the Dementors, beyond how to defeat them. A thing he now regretted, and that he regretted even more when he looked out of the corner cautiously... and found out who was the Dementor in there.

Motionless, before a cell, there was him.

The torchlight shone faintly in his robe, its paleness making him look even more delicate, than he had thought when he saw him on the roof.

The little white couldn´t go much beyond Harry's shoulders in height. And he could see that under the cloth, his body was really slender, very thin. But from his hiding place he couldn't look at who was hiding underneath the hood. His head was bowed seeming to look into the small space with something like... melancholy?

A curious tongue of intrigue curled itself around Harry.

And in impulse the auror decided to leave the corner, exposing himself. What harm could it do? It wasn't as if he couldn't defend himself against a Dementor. Just in case he reached into his pocket and grabbed his wand, but didn't remove it from his coat. He didn't want to look threatening.

The Dementor caught the movement not a second lather, and turned to face him. Harry saw very clearly, how the creature went tense as a bowstring the instant he saw him. How the small shoulders tensed and stepped back, like he was going to run away any minute now.

"Wait!"

The Dementor stopped hesitantly.

"I will not hurt you." - How ridiculous sounded that? By God, he couldn´t even understand his words. Could he? He had stopped after all. Could it be that ... he tried to make his voice as smooth and calm as possible.

"Are you the Dementor Lord?" - This seemed to make the white shudder.

But when he didn't take another step back, the Auror came nearer. Until Harry had him almost within arm reach… reached out…

The Dementor was started by the movement.

Harry stretched out just as the creature began to walk away. His fingers brushing the like a wisp of fog coat, before the creature started running, the pale appearance disappearing around the corner.

"So soft…" - looking surprised at his hand, Harry couldn´t stop the whisper from leaving his lips.

He had never touched a Dementor, and now that he had, just one thought plagued his head.

Soft. He was so soft. Couldn't be compared to anything he had touched before. It was cold, tingling in the fingers, almost intangible so smooth it was.

"I have to talk to Hermione."

* * *

When he came back to the guard room Hermione was still asleep and it was almost time for his call. Not much lather Ron entered the door, yawning, and eager for some sleep.

"Henry waits you in the kitchen." – The sleepy red head said, giving Harry a piece of paper on which the guard had drawn a little map, before hanging his coat from the hook on the wall.

"Thanks Ron." - He put the paper in his pocket.

"Agggh, stills no sign of him. It's incredible." - Ron ruffled his hair frustrated, as if the thought itched him. Harry could not help smiling at it.

"You didn't really believe, he was going to appear before you, and get himself caught, did you?"

His friend snorted indignantly, getting into the mattress. Harry had to turn around to keep from laughing.

"See you at breakfast." - The only answer was a muffled groan, from under some ratty pillow. Finally allowing himself a smile, Harry went the kitchens way; it was now his turn to guard the place, just to see if they were able to catch the elusive ferret. Or even a glimpse of their prey.

Hours passed slowly with nothing more interesting than poor Henrys conversation. Apparently, he wanted to hear first-hand the story of the end of the war. And since it was something Harry hated talking about, they were left with little more to say.

He thought asking about the white Dementor, but dismissed the idea; he didn't want to explain his reasons to a stranger, not when he had a friend with much more knowledge than the guard.

When it came time to swift turns again, it didn't cost him too much to convince Henry that he should return and take some rest.

He would partner with Hermione.

* * *

"Good night. "- greeted his friend.

Hermione's hair was dishevelled after sleeping, looking like a nest of mice. Her wrinkled clothes, which she had slept with, and her tired face, made her look like some kind of ghost.

Harry didn´t look much better, starting with his sleep deprived eyes, his wrinkled clothes and his hair... well, his hair was impossible to comb even at the best of times, so it really didn't matter too much if it looked more than rumbled.

Harry took another sip from the cup of coffee he had taken from the kitchen.

"Good night Hermione. Did you sleep well?" – He handed her another cup of coffee.

"Thanks." – Mione took the cup tiredly- "I haven't slept very well, but it doesn't matter.-She waved her hand in dismissal, not really bothered by it. Accustomed as she was, with the kind of work they had every other day- Well, are you going to tell me what's in your head, or no?" – And arched her eyebrow, taking a casual ship from the old cup.

Harry smiled; sometimes Hermione was able to read him to perfection.

"Should have known you would realize something was amiss.

"It isn't hard to see that you want to talk about something. Since you and Ron are so heavy sleepers, there must be some good reason for you to want to stay and keep me company, instead of going to bed. Well what´s it?" – Her friend stared into the darkness of the hallway, something running inside his head.

"Hermione, What do you know about Dementors?" - Asked without looking her way.

"More or less, the same you do. Why do you ask?"

"Just before we meet again in the guard resting room, a now not a couple hours ago ... I saw a white Dementor. Isn´t it weird? White?" – He looked at her expectantly, needing to know.

Hermione bit her lip in concentration, trying to remember anything she could have read about something like that.

"As far as I know, there isn't any white Dementor. But as I said, I don't know much about them. I could look in the library…"- "Um ... white dementors." Quickly her head was cataloguing the books she knew that might be useful.

"Thank you Hermione."

"He had some other unique characteristic?"

"I think he understood me. At one point, when I asked him to stop, he reacted as if he knew what I was saying."

"Maybe he was the Lord Dementor." - Different, not only in colour, but also able to understand humans. He had a good chance at being the one and only Lord. Iif he really had understood and not reacted out of instinct.

"I've thought it. But he seemed so fragile…, I mean, the Dementor Lord is not the most powerful Dementor of Azkaban? He seemed like the wind could take his body away, so thin he looked."

"Appearances can be deceiving." – She retorted.

Harry nodded, not entirely convinced.

"I guess we'll know in the morning."

They continued sipping coffee.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Henry were finishing preparing to go see the Dementor Lord, when finally, Hermione stood before the fireplace ready to go to the ministry.

"Write down anything important he tells you, I what to know everything when I return." – She insisted for the tenth time that morning.

"Yesss"- The two friends replied wearily. But when she opened her mouth to say something more, Ron couldn't take it anymore.

"Can´t you go already? If it's necessary I will let you see my memories, but for Merlin, go!"

Hermione glared at him.

"Do not talk to me like that Ron Weasley!

"Enough! Nothing is going to escape our notice Mione, now please; if you don't hurry you will end up without time left for all you have to do."- Harry was in as much a hurry to go and talk to the Lord Dementor, as his male best friend, but he respect his female one much more than Ron seemed capable of mustering.

The curly haired Auror looked at the old clock, and finally decided to take her leave.

"Okay. Have a nice day. Ministry of magic!" – She shouted and disappeared trough the heart, inside a green puff of smoke.

"We're going or what?" -The redhead was already at the door. Henry put his keys in his pocket and swallowed, preparing for what awaited them, he never liked having to talk to this creature, but this was an emergency, so...

"Well, let's go then."

Henry led the way, with Ron and Harry a couple of steps behind.

* * *

They had long since left the cells behind, moving to an area of labyrinthine bare rock corridors. The torches started becoming increasingly scarce until they had to light their wands to see in the dark.

Despite knowing it was morning, Harry was feeling like in the middle of a very cold, winter, moonless, night.

The temperature dropped as they advanced, until even under the magical warm spell they could feel the cold. The only sounds were the steps of the three of them, their breathing, a drop of water hitting the ground in some stone corner... Soon, they began to see signs of the elves fear to the Dementors. Must have passed years, since one of them dared to approach the place.

The floor was covered with a thick layer of dust, thick cobwebs hanged from the ceilings, the air reeked of old and dead things. Then, moments later, they began to feel it too, the oppressive feeling that indicated the proximity of one of them. The murmur of the survival instinct that prompts you to run.

Fear.

Harry clenched his jaw and fought the impulse, sinking it so deep in his subconscious that his presence was easily ignored. He gave thanks for the hard training received, which enabled him to withstand this kind of mental pressure without so much as a tingling.

Finally the light of their wands lit something ahead of them. They went closer, and Harry and Ron saw what couldn´t be anything other than the entrance of the tower. A large, old dark wooden with rusty metal bands, door.  
Henry sighed squaring his shoulders, and took the knocker in hand.

"Try to be respectful." He admonished before calling.

They held their breath while Henry hit the wall, the sound, in contrast to the deathly silence of the place, seemed to spread through the corridors like the touch of a funeral bell. And when the sound died, the creaking of the door caused the three of them to stare at it nearly mesmerized.

Harry watched as the door opened and the creature on the other side came to light, his heart beating furiously inside his chest.

Ragged clothes dragged the dust in his wake, whispering like a ghost. A feeling of terror flooded Harry brutally for a moment, making him tremble before being able to contain it with great difficulty. He noted that Ron had taken a step backward with eyes open in terror, and Henry swallowed noisily.

Before them, dark as the deepest of nights, terrible and powerful, was the Dementor Lord.

**Continue.**

(In the next chapter Draco)


	4. Soul

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 4 – Soul**

_Before them, dark as the deepest of nights, terrible and powerful, stood the Dementor Lord._

* * *

The air in the corridor grew even colder, their breath condensed in ghostly white mist. The light from the wands dimed to a withered glow. And the place became something actually nightmarish, in the presence of him.

Harry felt the cold creeping inside his bones. Freezing the breath in his lungs, his hands wet with cold sweat, the wand heavy between his fingers… Angrily, he grabbed it harder, digging his nails in his palm. Taking pain instead of fear. Gritted his teeth, and painfully, with the steel will only acquired at the expense of surviving a war, as bloody and painful as the one he had to fight, dominated it... barely.

Harry looked up gasping, still haunted by the voice whispering him to flee, trying to drown his mind.

The Dementor… was human shaped. Tall and muscled like Ron. But there ended, any remotely human resemblance. Black as a ravens coat, eaten by insects and time, the tunic embraced his body like a kings gear. Only his bonny long fingers, with nails like a hawk, were visible under it…

The aura of utter despair and terror around him, enveloping his form like a blanket, was much more terrible than any other of its kind. So much so…

Next to him Ron was struggling to dominate the sudden panic attack, gasping like a fish out of water. Henry, however, more accustomed to the dementors, seemed to have regained his composure, though pale and trembling.

"What brings you to our domain, men?"- The voice, the whisper of the Dementor made clear. Hissing, dark, attractive. It melted on your senses like butter on skin. He felt a shiver of total disgust. Beside him, Henry took a step forward with a plaque identifying him as a guard, clearly visible in his stretched hand.

"My name is Henry Cleawater, guard of Azkaban." - His voice tried to sound firm, but Harry could apperceive a slight tremor in it. The Lord nodded faintly, just a gesture of acknowledge.

"I know who you are. What remains unanswered is the cause of your presence at our home door."

Henry fought the urge to kneel before the oppressive presence that threatened to seize his body. And squared his shoulders.

"U ... one of the prisoners of the fourth level, Draco Malfoy, has escaped." - The Dementor hissed, prompting the guard to take a step back involuntarily.

"I know. We were asked about it. And we haven´t seen him yet, you would had known if it were the case." – The malicious whisper had a very dark undertone.

Harry listened, and knew exactly what the monster would have done at finding Malfoy, and under what conditions the slytherin would have returned to his cell ... or to the morgue. Henry shuddered, and the creature emitted something like a sinuous laugh, enjoying immensely the growing discomfort of the guard.

Furious, Harry took a step forward, unable to see the Dementor Lord so cruelly playing with the friendly man… and maybe, just a little, also driven by something else.

"What we want is to be allowed to register the tower." - The words left his lips before he could stop them. The hood turned sharply in his direction, but Harry was adamant, refusing to show any sign of fear, although breath refused to enter his lungs.

"And why would you have to do such a thing?" - The cavernous voice enveloped the Auror, pressing him, making Harry start gasping convulsively for breath. The frightened little voice in his head, growing louder, but he refused to be intimidated. _"It's just a Dementor, I have faced dozens before, this is no different,"_ he said to himself, and took sharply the air he needed.

"We think there are chances for Malfoy to have been able to hide inside." - His voice hoarse from the effort.

The Dementor Lord threw his head back, a sinister laugh, like the screech of metal against metal, came from his throat and slithered under their skin with spider like fingers.

"There's no living in our tower." -He said.

"Still, we have to be sure."- Harry insisted stubbornly.

The Dementor Lord refused at once.

"No." - His tone admitted no argument.

The darkness of the hall seemed to intensify. The cold began to frost the moisture in the floor and walls... Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Henry put a hand on his arm as a warning.

"Please, pardon our impertinence." - Henry whispered, voice choked with terror. He bowed and began dragging Harry with him, Ron at his heels completely terrified. The Dementor Lord didn´t even turn to look at them as he walked back inside the tower, closing the door behind himself, taking with him the cold and darkness.

* * *

Henry quickly took them to the guard rest room, ignoring any further attempt at conversation from a very annoyed Harry.

"What were you thinking?! I told you to be polite!" - Henry was red with anger. Harry faced the guard irritated by his attitude.

"In case you didn´t realize, I was trying to help! That dementor was laughing at your expense!"

"Don´t you dare imply I needed protection! Because you don´t know anything about how Azkaban works! We were in his territory, it was his right!" – Henry gestured angrily toward the door they had just entered.

"No, it was not! You are a guard and..."

"HE IS THE DEMENTOR LORD! You have to remember that if these creatures are controlled is because he wants it that way! Maybe it doesn´t matter to you, but I have to live here!" - Harry closed his mouth abruptly. Henry sank exhausted on the sofa next to Ron, who had scarcely begun to recover from the experience.

Harry took the words in, and understood Henrys way of thinking, even if he didn´t like it.

"... I'm sorry. I shouldn´t had intervened." -The black haired man approached the guard contrite.

Henry sighed.

"It's okay. I guess now we can´t register the tower."

"Don´t be so sure." - Harry smiled.

Henry looked up. At the same time the flames of the fire roared letting Hermione in.

"Hi. How was the visit to the Dementor Lord?" – She asked.

The aurors and the guard looked at each other.

* * *

Sunlight, a dim grey glow behind the clouds and the fog coming from the sea, poured from the dirty window to cast its sad presence inside, barely enough to dimly illuminate the room.

"A depressing light, for a depressing place." – He muttered, using his sleeve´s edge, to clear a small circle in the thick dust covering the window glass. The landscape outside was no more than a rough sea lost in fog. Even at noon, the sun could rarely be seen here. But even so, he loved looking outside. So much years inside a rock cage, made the man appreciative of even the saddest outside vision.

The figure sitting on the stone seat, at the foot of the window, was shaking.

"So cold." –He murmured.

Finally, unable to ignore the frigid temperature anymore, got up from the window and went to knelt beside the fire.

The room was old but well preserved. In fact, the only dirty element was the window. But that was because the towers windows were never cleaned. A security measure so nobody from outside could see inside.

A stupid thing if someone asked him. But here he had no voice or vote. What a familiar situation. Hadn´t it been like that all his life?

The bed was an antique of solid wood, every inch carved with lions and plants. Motive present, even, in the worn by time magnificent canopy curtains, of crimson velvet and gold embroideries.

A comfortable and gold baroque mirror, a small table against the wall with a chair, and the thick carpet placed before the fire on which he had sat, were all the furniture in the room. A decadent room, maybe worn, but still noble.

"An environment that suits me" He rubbed his hands and spread them to the warm fire, apprehensively noting the extreme pallor of his skin. The way he could almost follow the path of veins under the surface. "Yesterday I wasn´t so pale" He swallowed convulsively and rose, coming closer to the mirror.

Dropped the hood that covered his face.

Silver blond hair spilled out to rest on thin shoulders. Grey eyes surrounded by dark circles, stared back from the crystal surface. High cheekbones, thin lips, pale skin ... so pale. Draco stifled a groan of despair.

"No. No, no, nonononono...ENOUGH!" Put his forehead against the cold surface of the mirror, trying and failing to cool down, while catching his breath. "I can still stop it, I have time." He looked into his eyes, determined.

Yes, he still had time. But not much more. And he just couldn´t do this alone. He needed help.

Draco left the mirror, needing to focus, needing to think. He sat again by the fireplace, wrapped in his white robe. The heat of the fire wasn´t a relief, but the flames offered him something to watch while plotting.

"I will not become one of them." If anything was left oh him after seven years in hell, it was his pride and determination. "I have lost everything. Power, wealth, magic, freedom, even my body has been ..." He looked at his hands, so thin, he knew that his ribs under the cloak would also be prominent. Little remained of the handsomeness that he had previously taken for granted. "If the only thing I have left is my soul ..." He touched the palm of his hand to his chest, feeling the beat of his own heart "I will defend it with all my might. Whatever It Takes"

Draco observed the white robe that covered his battered body. White... for now. If he didn´t want it ending black, he had to act quickly.

* * *

When Hermione entered the room she could immediately see, that the interview with the Lord Dementor hadn´t gone well. Ron looked cat-atonic, Harry guilty-looking, and Henry sat avoiding her gaze… And after hearing the story, she felt like kicking her friend.

Hermione rubbed her temples to try to dispel the headache.

"So, only to make it clear; you insulted the Dementor Lord?"

"I didn´t insult him Mione. I just went… a little rough." - Harry tried to defend himself.

" ... "– Hermione took a deep breath; she wasn´t going to obtain anything by getting angry with Harry. What was done, was done.- "I guess we can´t do anything about it."

Ron had finally recovered, but was busy undoing the suitcase Hermione had brought him. Just so he didn´t have to admit, that he had been paralyzed by fear when they saw the Dementor Lord.

"How about you? You found the new spell?" – Henry asked the brown haired Auror.

"Of course." - She pulled a thick volume of the backpack she carried, titled: _"Spells detectors and sniffer"_ And opened it from the marked page.

"I think this will serve our purposes. – She pointed the paragraph - It's a very powerful spell that detects magical presences and flows of magic. If this isn´t enough, nothing's going to be.

"Can we prove it?" - Asked Ron livelier. Harry nodded, smiling.

* * *

"Hermione, what's happened?" - Ron shook the unmoving girl.

He and Harry had been accompanying her while she tested the spell on Malfoy's cell. When, suddenly, at finishing it, she had fallen directly into the red head arms. Totally of.

"Put her here." - Harry spread his coat on the floor, so Ron could put Mione in it.

If anything happened to her ... Harry got up to go in search of a mediwitch, when a cry made him look back.

"Hermione! You had us so worried! - Ron was squashing a blushing Mione – Don´t you scare us again." - And smiled relieved, it had just been a little faint. Thank god.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. Ron please, let me go, you're suffocating me." - She tried to hide the blush coughing, while the redhead let her go.

"What happened?"

Mione shook her clothes, trying to keep her composure despite the colouring of her cheeks.

"It was just an overload, I didn´t expect the spell to reveal so much information. Next time I'll be more careful."

"Have you learned anything interesting?" - Ron was ecstatic.

Hermione nodded soberly, her face serious.

"We hadn´t noticed the dark aura before, because it´s masked in the one natural of the prison. But something ... someone has practiced dark magic in that cell. And not just any spell. Never, never I have feel anything like that. Whatever he did, it couldn´t be good for Malfoy."

Harry frowned thoughtfully.

Ron just smiled.

"Well, somebody did something to Malfoy before he escaped. So what? He deserved it."

Mione looked at him, with disgust.

"You don´t know what you're saying Ron. This isn´t like a stinging spell; it could be even darker than the unforgivables." – But the red-haired Auror seemed deaf to the words of his companion.

Harry felt a wave of hatred and disgust against whoever had been so wicked to use that kind of magic.

"Who could have done that?" – He said almost to himself.

"I don´t know. - Murmured Mione.- But this complicates matters."

"For now we can´t do nothing. Better stick with the original plan and register the different levels of the prison. Back to the room, it's time to get going."

* * *

In the lounge they met with Henry and his partner Tomas, who was still looking at them with superiority.

"Well, then all´s clear. -Harry said pointing to the large map of the prison, that had been returned to its spread position on the table. - Hermione and Henry will register the four levels underground, me and Ron the top four, and Tomas will watch the kitchen. Remember, all doors must remain sealed to keep Malfoy from going from one level to another, unable to move freely within the prison. Register meticulously each level before proceeding to the next, so we can corner him. Questions?" – No one said anything. - "In that case we can start now. Stop at eight, come back here for dinner, if there´s any problem, send your patronus. Good luck!" - All nodded and split up to go to their respective duties.

"At last the hunt begins!" - Ron said cheerfully.

**It will continue.**


	5. Fear

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Note: **Thanks **Yamimoukin** and **TroMin **for cheering me so much. ^^ And **Yaoifanfake **yea, you have go it ;) Draco is turning into a Dementor… and I hate Ron XD I think my feelings are bleeding into the fic.

Now I present:

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 5 – Fear**

"_In that case we can start now. Stop at eight, come back here for dinner, if there´s any problem, send your patronus. Good luck!" - All nodded and split up to go to their respective duties._

"_At last the hunt begins!" - Ron said cheerfully._

* * *

Harry looked at his watch.

It had passed half an hour since Hermione and Henry went searching the lower levels. Surely, they would have separated already to cover more space.  
He looked at Ron. He and Harry were searching the stores of the first floor, some of whom had been deserted nearly a century ago. The disuse easy to see in the way his best friend was trying to open one of the doors lining the hall. The wood swelled with moisture over the years, was caught in the jamb, making opening it a really difficult task.  
"Ron."

The redhead turned wiping in his sleeve the sweat from his brow.

"You are leaving now?"

Harry nodded.

"Do you think they have believed it?"

"I don´t think they suspect anything. Maybe we're being a little paranoid ... but that spell didn´t made itself."- Ron crossed his arms thoughtfully, leaning against the wall.

During the war, and even before, the difficulties they had to overcome together, taught them, that to rely on anyone that wasn´t one of their friends could be the last thing they did. And especially, in a case like this, who reeked of corruption, they couldn´t afford such mistake.

When Hermione got up after fainting, and told them that ... they knew certainly that trusting the guards was no longer an option. That kind of spell... in a secured place? Impossible for anyone to have run something like it without the guards knowing. But there, in the hall, without knowing for sure where the suspects could be, it hadn't been prudent to speak.

They weren´t the bests for nothing.

They knew how to work perfectly coordinated, had been in many similar situations, were best friends… that gave them an understanding of each other that didn´t need words. So Ron, whose hatred for Malfoy was well known, had done what he did best, blame the ferret and downplay the whole thing. If they thought the aurors didn´t give the incident more importance than that, it was likely they would drop their guard.

And, if any of them had been the caster of such magic, they, certainly, wouldn´t hesitate in using it to protect themselves if being cornered. So the three friends had separated like nothing was wrong, until a time such as this, when they could act. When they were for sure where each of the guards were.

How could they suspect that the three aurors would use the valuable time of searching, for planning their next move?

"Then I will stay and cover for you." - The red-haired auror looked seriously at his friend.-"You know, If Henry or Thomas come looking for us, say that we separated to cover more ground."

Harry nodded.

"Thanks Ron. See you in a couple hours. If anything happens you know what to do."

"I'll send my patronus. Don´t worry. – And turned to the door rolling up his sleeves. - Well, let's see if I can open this."

* * *

Harry undid the way to the resting room being careful to stay hidden in the shadows.

Finally reaching the door, and after making sure that nothing could be heard inside, he entered and took from his backpack the invisibility cloak.

"Let's go."

* * *

Hermione felt a slight movement in the air at her side and turned sharply in its direction, but saw nothing.

She was on the first floor of the basement, at the end of a dark corridor flanked by heavy silver doors magically sealed, and as far as she had been able to go from Henry, with the excuse of ground cover.

The coursed area intended for werewolves.

The sounds of tearing claws against stone or metal, the inhuman screams, growls and howls put her mind on end. She grasped the wand harder.

"Meat, meat ..."

"What ..."

"!"

"Hermione." - Harry´s voice made her jump.

"Don´t do something like that ever again." – The ginger haired woman hissed between sharp teeth, somewhere among scared and angry.

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, Hermione looked like a scalded cat. Especially with her hair sticking out of place. The female auror abruptly snatched the invisibility cloak from his body, and threw a bubble of silence charm in its place.

"Is it safe?"

"Don´t worry; I casted a detector spell at Henry. If he comes near us, I will know." - Mione said.

"Okay." - Harry leaned against the wall, hiding in the shadows, just in case. – "So, do you know something of the spell used in Malfoys cell?" – He asked.

Hermione sighed.

"No. Sorry, but that was true. If only I haven´t fainted I could have pretended the spell had failed, but as things were, pretending wasn´t going to help. And to show that I didn´t know it was black magic, especially of that level; would have been even less believable."

"The best thing would have been to do as we hadn´t discovered anything. But..."- They couldn´t afford to deny it since any guard could had been watching them. And to throw a spell to see if they were spied upon, would have exposed their suspicions.

Mione sighed.

"Besides, I can´t get out of Azkaban so soon after returning, it would look too weird. I guess our best shot is to send an owl to MacGonnagal, maybe she can lend me certain useful books about what kind of spell we are dealing with."

"Meanwhile to see if we can come up with something about Malfoy… If he isn't dead already." – Harry murmured.

Hermione said nothing to that, a magic so dark left little hope for the one casted upon.

"We'll have to watch Henry and Tomas. –Harry continued- You can take care of Henry, since you are registering the basement together… And could you ask Ron to deal with Tomas?"

"I'll send my Patronus. - She volunteered. - But what are you going do?" - Mione asked.

"I'll see if I can enter the tower. I don´t know why, but I have a feeling that there´s where the key of this case lays." -For a moment he seemed to look intensely at nothing, until his focused again.

"Be careful, okay? Try not to dive headfirst into danger, at least this time." - Harry smiled mischievously at Hermiones words.

"You know me." – His friend shook her head hopelessly.

"I don´t know what I'm going to do with you. – She undid the bubble of silence- Hope you have some luck."

"You too." - He said softly.

The dark haired auror threw the invisibility cloak again over himself, and waited for his friend to go out before heading to the tower.

* * *

Draco was sitting by the fireplace watching the flames move without seeing them. His knees pressed against his chest, hugged in a feeble try to keep some warm. But each passing day feeling warm turned more difficult, as if he were being slowly frozen from the inside.

"I guess that´s not very far from reality." The curse was turning his blood ice. He needed a way to undo it before being too late. "The problem is that I don´t know how it was done either." At the time he had been semi-conscious, freezing cold, sick ... he couldn´t remember anything.

The creak of the door behind him took Draco out of his thoughts:

"Lady Margaret." - He greeted.

A Dementor carrying a tray entered in the room, carefully depositing the food on the table.

"Good evening, Draco. - The voice, though slightly hissing was that of a woman. - I brought you something to eat." - The hood she wear was removed and Draco suppressed a shiver.

At some time in the past she must have been a beautiful woman late in her forties, but now his brown hair looked like a pile of dead seaweed on her head, atop skin as pale as a corpse, with eyes covered in a whitish gel-like film. Although Draco knew she wasn´t blind. Of the same height as him, thin like a broomstick, she looked like a body that had been taken out of the muddy bottom of a swamp. Still yet, it was better to see her like that, than as a Dementor.

Draco knew that the only reason he was able to see this human form, was because he also was becoming one.

"Why do you help me?" -He said softly. The Dementor waved a bony hand resting importance to his words.

"I never liked to see a kid go hungry. And if you don´t want to eat properly..."

"I will not eat the soul of anyone!" - The blond exclaimed angrily, rising from his position before the fire. Margaret hit him in the chest with a finger.

"That's something you can´t prevent young man. You are what you are, and should get rid of those silly human complexes." - Her voice was maternal, and Draco could read in her face that she really cared for him. They meet only a few days ago, but the strange and erratic creature had taken instant affection to the young prisoner. Perhaps, because he was the youngest in the tower.

"I'm not a Dementor ..." - his voice sounded weak even to his ears.

"Don´t worry so much, it isn´t so terrible of a existence.- Margaret gave him a few pats on the shoulder. -Well, I better continue with the clean-up, there´s still much to do. Take a little rest, sweet, you look sick." - the boy held a grin, _"Look who is telling me that I look bad ..."_

Lady Margaret was who maintained the order and cleanliness of the tower. The elves were too frightened to be able to keep coming, so the Dementors Lord had entrust the task to another, namely, her.

Margaret was muttering to herself again before closing the door in her wake.

gRRRRRRRRRrrr Draco put his hands to his stomach feeling suddenly very hungry.

Finally sitting at the table he looked at the small dish of porridge, slice of bread and glass of water, feeling his mouth water. It was what happened when one wasn´t able to prove more than stale and mouldy bread for almost seven years. He quickly ate it all, but even them, somehow, he still had a slight feeling of hunger...

The blond threw his hood upon his head, hiding in it. Not wanting to think.

It felt like he would end up crying if he continued worrying about it. He was exhausted from so much stress.

Draco hugged himself trying to find some comfort.

"I needed to forget about everything for a while, I needed some peace. Maybe I should follow the advice of Lady Margaret and get some sleep"

* * *

A web adhered to his cloak as he moved in front of the old door of the tower, and Harry cleaned it as best he could.

"Why can´t they live in a cleaner place?" He muttered to himself and shook his head raising his wand to better see the latch; it seemed that the door was locked. _"Logical. They don´t seem to receive many visits"_

"Nox." - murmured softly before taking it in hand, making sure to remain hidden by the invisibility coat. Slowly he began to turn the latch, avoiding squeaking hinges, and sliding it open slowly, before slipping in and closing the door behind. Thus ending in a short hallway, at the end of which could be seen candlelight.

"That's weird." He thought, and crouched maintaining a defensive posture, since he was invading a forbidden territory, in which if he was found out he would have to fight just to get out. For a moment Harry stood still, recalling the soft laughter of his mother, to be prepared in case he needed to use the patronus. But when he neared the light source ...

"Wha ...!" – Instantly Harry bit his lip realizing the noise he must have done.

The interior of the tower wasn´t nothing like the passage that preceded it. Before him lay another stone corridor, but clean, warmly lit by candles and flanked on both sides by dark wooden old, but polished, doors. Worn carpets, faded tapestries... The place exuded a sense of tarnished nobility.

He took a few steps in; inspecting fascinated the moving images of the tapestries. There was a huge castle beside a lake, the summer sun reflecting on the leaves and the gentle movement that produced the breeze:

"Hogwarts ..." It looked much newer and shiny, but the magnificent college was unmistakable. "What´s making here a tapestry of Hogwarts?" He went to see the next one when his sensed warned him of an icy sensation behind himself. A Dementor with what looked like a bucket and a mop was ailing in his direction.

The Auror frowned confused. He had been so focused on the tapestry that hadn´t realized the monster had come so close. But even if he was pretty sure that his form wouldn´t be seen, even by those creatures, inside the invisibility cloak, he decided not to risk it. Taking advantage of the thing being looking the other way, Harry opened the nearest door and slipped inside, gently shutting it in his wake, trying not to make noise.

As he turned he saw that he must have entered a bedroom. The room had one large window covered with dust beneath which was a carved stone seat wall. But even if the window was all dirty, like in the hallway the furniture here, old but well preserved, wasn´t.

The fireplace was lit with orange flames... It was quite possible that the owner of the room was still there.

"I should have checked if it was empty." He raised his wand, ready to conjure. The space carefully searched at a glance. At first there seemed to be nobody else. A solid wood bed completely carved with lions and plants, canopy crimson velvet with gold embroidery curtains worn by time, closed at the time, was the biggest furniture in the room. It reminded him of the Gryffindor ornaments, and Harry couldn´t prevent approaching the bed, filled with curiosity.

"Anyone living here could be sleeping…"

He was so curious...

"Do Dementors really sleep?"

Before thinking better of it, he carefully drew one of the curtains. The golden light of the candles fell inside slightly allowing Harry to see what was there. A delicate figure clad in a white robe, sleeping under a thick blanket of red velvet.

"The white Dementor."

He was on his side, his hooded face turned to the other side.

_His fingers brushed his robe when it escaped from them like a wisp of fog, before the pale appearance disappeared around the corner. "So soft .- whispered, looking surprised at his own hand. Soft. Something cold leaving a tingling on the fingers, almost intangible as smooth as it was. _Harry recalled it perfectly.

Was really so good touching it? Needing to know, Harry reached out and gently touched his covered by the robe shoulder. A pleasant shiver ran through his fingers:

"So soft ..." - His fingers roamed the contour of the shoulder gently, a feather like touch.

Draco felt someone touching his shoulder and his senses were put on alert immediately. He sat up abruptly and pushed away the attacker. His hand hit ... Air?

Harry put his hand away quickly, surprised by the reaction of the creature. When the Dementor hit him sliding his cloak to the floor, and leaving him exposed.

"You!" - Draco said seeing Potter emerge from thin air. Immediately he put his hand to his mouth. "No - He thought hysterically- If Potter discovers me I will be thrown in that cell again. No, nonononono. I will not survive it again. I can´t go back to that hell."

He felt the beginning of a panic attack taking rot in his mind. Immediately Draco lowered his head hiding his face in the shadow of the hood, gasping. His muscles tightening brutally, when Potter came even closer. Grasped the cloth of his tunic in his hands, to avoid the auror noticing his trembling.

"I knew you understood me." - Harry said softly with a smile.

The Dementor seemed terrified. Taut as a violin string. He put the wand in his belt and raised his hands to show that he didn´t want to hurt him.

_"He looks so scared ..."_So fragile in the centre of the huge bed, that for a moment Harry felt the need to hug the pale apparition.

"Hermione's right, I have a hero complex," he told himself slightly amused. Anyone who knew that he felt the need to protect a Dementor, surely would die of laughter.

"Hey, quiet, I´m not going to hurt you."

Draco swallowed convulsively. Thinking: "I ... I haven´t been discovered" he let out the breath didn´t know he'd been holding, shakily. Raised slightly his hooded eyes, knowing the shadow would prevent Harry seeing his face.

"Why are you so scared that I know you can talk?" - The dark haired man asked sweetly.

Draco couldn´t believe his luck. It seemed the auror hadn't noticed anything... Maybe he could use him to help his needs. He seems to be preoccupied for him after all. And grimaced, since Harry couldn´t see it. "Potter hasn´t changed anything." Draco remembered the hero complex of the Auror, and unhealthy habit of caring for any helpless creature, starting with Longbottom. He evaluated the pros and cons. "It's worth a try. I can´t tell the whole truth, but I can say part of it. After all, the lies based on truth are easier to remember."

He let his shoulders fall slightly:

"It's... Only the Lord is allowed to speak." - His voice trembling slightly, trying by all means to sound soft. He didn´t want to be recognized.

Harry felt a pang of tenderness… "Wait! Since when Dementors cause positive feelings? " Harry looked down slightly, pretending to be compassionate. "A white Dementor who produces tender feelings, not frightening ones, (he realized that he had never felt uneasy in the presence of the elusive creature), who is afraid of me and don´t want to talk: Malfoy" Although how so an unpleasant person had learned to look even delicate, escaped him entirely. "Azkaban does strange things to the mind of its inhabitants" The memory of Sirius reappearing for a moment. How he had managed to escape and pose as a Dementor he didn´t know, but he would make sure it didn´t pass again.

"Why don´t we stop playing Malfoy?"- He hissed.

Draco drew back terrified, not fast enough to stop Potter, who in one fluid motion grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed them boot into the mattress, holding the blond with his weight and clamping his legs with his.

Draco felt the wave of panic that he had been trying to contain finally break the weak wall of his sanity, eroded to almost the insanity from years of imprisonment and torture. The grasping hands on his shoulders, holding it as shackles, the unwanted weight on him, bringing too many nightmarish memories, the inability to move...

"Why don´t you show me your face?" - Harry's voice full of venom was mixed with another he wanted to forget. _"Why don´t you show me your face? You look even more beautiful when you cry."_

Harry grabbed his hood and pulled sharply. Draco screamed like a banshee.

The Auror pulled back abruptly at finding himself looking directly at the face of a screaming Dementor. And being beaten by an aura full of terror, that left him dizzy and disoriented for a moment, despite his training.

He jumped instantly away from the bed.

"What have I done? I thought it was Malfoy, but ... "He took his wand helplessly watching the screaming Dementor arch his back so much it looked like he were going to break.

The sound of wood hitting the ground…

Someone was coming.

Quickly he covered himself with the invisibility cloak again and hid in the corner of the room, far away from the bed.

Lady Margaret heard the cry of her boy and dropped the bucket she was holding, pouring dirty water on the floor and running to Draco's room, completely terrified.

"Please, don´t anything happen to him, not to my child. Not again "She burst into the room.

"What happened? - Ran up to the bed - Draco! Draco, can you hear me?" – She shook him gently and patted his face, but the blond didn´t react. He kept screaming.

"What do I do, what can I do?"

Harry watched under his cloak, invisible in the corner, as the new Dementor tried unsuccessfully to get a reaction from the smaller one. He couldn´t understand his hissing, but if a Dementor could sound concerned, this would.

His conscience was like a scream in his head, signalling all of this was his fault. And he didn´t know how to help. The wand painfully hard grasped in his hand, feeling useless.

Suddenly, the temperature dropped dramatically. Then a terrifying aura of terror coming closer, and finally, the rapid decrease of light in the room moments before the Dementor Lord entered, followed by another Dementor a couple of steps behind, his head respectfully lowered.

"My Lord!" - Margaret ran to kneel at the feet of the Lord. – "I don´t know what happened. He doesn't react."

The Dementor Lord gave her a disdainful look, and the other dementor that had come with him, immediately rushed her away dragging Margaret by her robe.

"Please have your way, My Lord." - He said politely.

Harry saw this. And although he couldn't understand what they said, he didn´t like the way the Lord and the other treated the one who came first, and that seemed to be trying to help the white.

The Dementor Lord approached the bed where the delicate creature still remained rigid and screaming.

"Draco, Draco.-the name sounded like an act of disapproval in his mouth.- This is what passes for not listening to me.- Leaned over him .- In the end, you need me."- With rare delicacy he took him in his arms.

Harry didn´t understand the words of the Lord of the Dementors, maybe because this time he wasn´t talking to humans. But saw with horror as the aberrant creature took in his arms the little Dementor. Furiously clenching his teeth resisted the urge to come out of hiding and stop him.

Cold, very cold. Soft lips. Quiet, a calm that could only be achieved in death. Draco was wrapped in it. Slowly he began to regain consciousness. Something warm came in his mouth and he had to swallow. Immediately he felt much better, no longer hungry. His lashes flickered slightly. The Dementor Lords face so close ... He pushed him breaking the kiss.

"Don´t touch me!" - The Lord released him, and Draco immediately threw his hood to hide his face in the quiet darkness. Turning away from the monster.

Harry felt a deep disgust and anger when he saw the Lord kiss the pale Dementor. That thing filled with darkness, dirtying something so delicate. Wrapping it in his robe until he could barely see it. He felt his own power beginning to escape his control. So when he heard the little one finally react with a resounding Don´t! He felt relieved.

"Why can I understand him, but not the others?"

"You are an ungrateful bastard Malfoy! If not for our Lord you would still be writhing on your pathetic nightmare." - Hissed the Dementor who appeared to accompany the dark leader.

"Enough already, William. –Intervened the Lord gently, stopping on the spot his servant. – Yet, Draco, you have to realize what your situation is, see reason."

Approached the white with the intention of touching his cheek, but Draco pulled away.

"What have you done?" – He asked, dreading the answer, but needing to know. The other smiled cruelly.

"Don´t worry. I couldn´t give you a soul even if I tried. You have to eat your first one by yourself. It was just a little memory so you could recover a bit."

The blond shuddered with disgust and fear. _"No, please don´t. This will speed up the change"_ He began to feel colder, and Harry must know his secret. He couldn´t understand why he hadn´t imprisoned him yet.

His eyes started stinging, his throat under a knot.

"Leave me in peace." - said weakly.

The Lord came and Draco didn´t have the strength to reject him this time, when the monster decided to leave a kiss on his cheek.

"Whatever you want. We will go ... for now. William picks up that useless thing!" - The servant caught Margaret dragging her with them. But she didn´t mind the rough treatment, so happy that the small one was fine...

"Thanks, thanks, o thanks Lord for helping him." - The Dementor Lord didn´t even look at her.

When the door closed behind the three Draco felt his legs no longer able to hold him up, and dropped to his knees, trembling. "Malfoys don´t cry!" He said to himself furiously, but nevertheless, tears started rolling down his cheeks.

"What shall I do?"

Harry waited for the sound of the Dementors in the hall to disappear, before getting out from under the cloak.

Seeing the little Dementor on the floor, shaking between sobs ... he couldn´t resist it. The auror dropped at his side.

Draco hipped between sob and sob. He wanted to ask if he was going to be arrested now, but had no strength left.

"I'm sorry." - Harry whispered hugging him.

A lazy hug that didn´t made Draco feel caught, if not strangely comforted. The Auror wanted to grab and hug him tightly against his chest, protect the little one so no one could hurt him again, but he knew that that would only scare him.

Finally Draco began to relax, and after a time rested his head on Harry's chest listening to the soothing beat of his heart.

"Thanks." - He whispered.

**It will continue.**


	6. Warm

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 6- Warm**

Harry, gently, took the little one in his arms, embracing him a little more firmly, seeking to comfort him with all his might. His conscience shouted he was to blame for the sobs, the trembling and the sudden fear. And Harry began to dread having really hurt him.

Under his hands, despite the softness of the tunic, he could feel sharp ribs under skin, a body so thin the auror thought that, embraced tighter, it may break as a porcelain ornament. Checking with his own hands how delicate the white dementor was, did nothing to alleviate the guilt he felt.

Something inside was crying out that he had to protect him.

Submerged in the hug, Draco, little, by little, started coming around. His nose sank gently in the shelter of Harrys chest, taking in his scent. The auror smelled of soap and sweat, and something powerfully masculine, that was, somehow, comforting. It gave him a feeling of warmth and security Draco had not really felt since being marked by the Dark Lord.

And for the first time since he was brought to Azkaban, he didn´t feel cold. Potter dissipated the freezing feeling with his mere presence, like his body was in flames within, as if under the skin he didn´t have meat, but fire.

The slytherin snuggled in the arms of the auror, letting himself be enveloped by the warmth. Feeling protected, safe from the horror he had had to suffer.

But…the little white began to shake again, the sobs returning slowly.

No longer hysterical, but weak and exhausted, filled with greater pain.

Harry hugged him a bit more tightly. He knew that kind of crying that seems broken inside. The one that came from the suffering of an injury, which, although closed, had leaved a scar so deep it would never totally disappear.

He knew it well, really so, because he had several identical scars. Sirius, Remus, so many loved ones killed in the war ... a pain he could never forget. And from experience he knew that there was very little that others could do to help. All he could do was hold him and wait. Make him feel that he was not alone. Not anymore.

Draco began to mourn again; I hurt all over. His body, his heart… even if he was already used to it, it hurt so much... The selfless embrace of Harry had awakened the feeling again. The pain, like a wound taken so long ago, that eventually you learn to live with it. You get used to its presence and its pain becomes bearable, although at first it was terrible. And so, when finally you get relief and lose the numbness, it's much more painful to return to it. He knew that if he ended in that hell again, now, after the warm comfort of Potter, he would go mad. Yet Draco also knew he could not avoid ending up there.

"Please." – He said weakly, almost no strength left in his voice.

In that instant he hated himself for being so weak. For needing both the auror and his warmth, his comfort. For wanting him despite knowing that much of the blame for his suffering was his. He hated Potter, but much more himself. And yet, despite all, the words left his lips, broken and trembling:

" .. Will… will you come to visit? Only… once?" - Draco breathed shakily. –"If only… if only you could come once ... I think… I think I could handle it." - He knew it was foolish to cling to hope. His life was broken and had been so for so long ... why try to find relief? Yes, Harry made him feel a bit more whole, but Draco would always be missing pieces that could not be recovered. The auror would leave. And then he would have to live a little more broken, a little less alive.

He closed his eyes, because looking at his face while Harry refused, would be too much.

The broken voice almost like a plea, the delicate quivering of his shoulders, the slight sobs… The terrible pain that seemed to be finally breaking him.

Harry didn´t have to think:

"I will come every day, I promise." - His voice full of determination.

Surprised Draco looked up slowly. Grey misty eyes came across a green, intense as Avada Kedavra. The force of that gaze took his breath away.

"I swear."- Harry repeated.

Finally, the air began to get back to Dracos lungs. _"What did he just say?"_

"...!" - Suddenly Harry picked him up, and took him to the bed, where he was carefully laid. Draco tried to ask what he was doing, but Harry raised his hand to ask for silence:

"Not now, you need to rest." - _"He's on the verge of a nervous breakdown"_ Harry thought to himself. Carefully covering the little one whit some blankets. – "Try to get some sleep; we will talk in the morning."

The sleeping spell cast by Harry in a whispered voice, softly sank Draco into a pleasant slumber without nightmares.

Harry leaned heavily against the door of the room he had just left. Inside, the White dementor was sleeping peacefully.

And Harrys mind couldn´t stop the train of thoughts brined by what he had just saw. "Something terrible has had, or still is, happening to him." - He felt a pang igniting the protective nature inside himself. - "I want to help, but ..."- The mission was a priority. As much as he wanted to help, he couldn´t do it seriously till they had found out what had happened to Malfoy. - "Then I only have to find what´s happening here soon enough to help."- He burrowed deeper in the invisibility cloak. Something was telling him that the answers he sought were in the tower. - "And maybe I can discover something more that isn´t about Malfoy." -He looked one last time toward the door, and began advancing down the corridor.

* * *

After talking to Harry and sending his Patronus to warn Ron that he had to keep an eye on Thomas, Hermione had decided to investigate on her own the basements. If the guards actually had something to do with what had happened to Malfoy, an increasingly likely possibility, going with one of them to try to find him, would be futile. The culprit would try to keep her from finding Malfoy, not help her with it.

Hermione, slyly threw a new locator spell at Henry, and headed to the fourth floor of the basement. Where were, supposedly, the most dangerous magical creatures.

Technically, she had promised Harry that she would watch over Henry, but ... -" He isn´t going to do nothing suspicious around me. Then, since he doesn't know how far I have gone, I don't think anything will happen. And… he didn´t want me to come closer to this section." So, logically, here was where she had headed.

"_Why don´t we start from the fourth floor and go up from there?"_ – She had asked.

"_No, it's too dangerous, it would be best to go with Tomas joining us, he knows this area better."_

"He seemed nervous and didn´t want to come here without his partner. I bet his hiding something."

Slowly, Hermione went down the last flight of stairs wand in hand. The torchlight was usually low in Azkaban, but here the shadows lengthened in an even drearier atmosphere.

She looked back before descending the last steps, making sure, she told herself, that Henry hadn´t followed. Although, she knew from the spell she had thrown no later than a quarter hour before, he had not.

The auror swallowed nervously, everything was too quiet down here.

Hermione descended to a moss-covered hall, full of the smell of salt and dead seaweed, the ground waterlogged. Clearly this floor descended under sea level. The corridor was flanked by latticed metal gates. Beside some doors, claw marks that had raised the scum from the walls and marred the stone below, could be seen. As if the prisoners had extended their arms out of the cell, just to scratch the rock.

Everything was quiet, the only sounds that of the water drops against stone and her breathing. Mione cast a waterproof spell on her boots and began to advance.

Peered into each cell, one by one, searching, but all offered very similar images; seeming asleep prisoners, still, pale as wax, purple circles under their eyes, looking so quite... like they weren´t even breathing.

"This has to be the vampires section." And since it was day, everyone was asleep.

She continued to move through the reeking water, the stench becoming increasingly unpleasant. The so still figures of the prisoners making her uneasy. They gave the feeling of being in a crypt. In a tomb. Somewhere dead and freezing. Hermione shook her head trying to get over that stupid feeling. Grabbed her wand more tightly, looked inside the next cell...

Laying on the only mattress, a still figure not unlike the rest, pale, haggard ... hands resting on a broad chest like a dead man, was…

His wavy black hair, so black that seemed to absorb light. His noble features, muscular body, a boyish face that hadn´t changed in seven years. Since the last time she saw him at Hogwarts… where unmistakable.

"Blaise Zabini." - A weak whisper.

She had read in the newspaper during the late war, how both he, Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson had been caught trying to hide in an abandoned house. Sentenced to Azkaban, and dispossessed of all their goods.

These three were very good friends, always going together everywhere. Almost like her with Ron and Harry.

"That's why Henry didn´t want me coming here ..." If Malfoy had escaped was very possible that he had contacted Blaise.

"Enervate!" She called.

Blaise felt a shock of magic trace all his body, and opened his dull red eyes. Looked toward the door...

"It seems I have finally lost his head. Granger?"

"Zabini." – The auror replied impassively.

The vampire sat up in one fluid motion, like a snake, moving to the bars in front of her. His look, puzzled, while he studied her up and down, like deciding if indeed she was a chimera of his imagination, was something sharply uneasy.

An now that the hall light was better falling on the man, Hermione could see the dirt that covered him, the tattered state of his clothes, and the colour of his eyes. They weren´t brown like she remembered, they were red, red as well of dried blood. As a wolfs snout.

Finally the vampire looked at her face, seemingly having offed his surprise:

"So you are an Auror?" – He said dispassionately. Looking at the official coat she wore.

"Yes." – Mione retorted squaring her shoulders. Her tone became more authoritarian.- "I'm here to ask you some questions."

"About what? Since I talked all I knew, when we were dragged here." – His voice monotonous, but with an acid undertone that spooked about how painful it must have been. Blaise sat back a top the filthy mattress.

"About Malfoy. –She replied- You may not know, but he escaped from his cell five days ago. If he´s looking for someone, that ought to be you. - She pointed her wand at him- You can talk by choice or by force, Zabini. Your choice."

The Italians expression changed to something dangerous, but he didn´t move from his position on the pallet:

"I know nothing. All I know is that five days ago, one of you, dogs of the ministry, bled me to lethargy." - He hissed. His eyes showed a red gloss, like a film of blood.

"Who?" - Asked Mione, several defensive spells on the tip of her tongue.

"Don´t know, but he was wearing the guards uniform."

Suddenly, a strange sound as of bells reached their ears.

"The alarm" – She murmured. The spell she had cast to now when dinner time approached, so she could go meet Henry, without raising suspicions.

"Did you have to go?" - Blaise asked. For some reason, for a moment, he almost seemed to want her to stay.

"Would you miss me?" – Hermione asked raising an eyebrow.

"It's possible." - Blaise smiled faintly, showing a pair of sharp fangs.

The auror stood a moment longer, and then started walking back to the first basement.

* * *

Harry studied the tapestries hanging from the walls of the hall, as he went further and further inside, but no other else called him as much as that of Hogwarts.

He had been touring this floor for a while, and had found bedrooms, bathrooms and a broom closet. All bated in the golden light of candles. It was like walking through an antiquated and tarnished noble mansion, which nevertheless still retained its royal dignity.

Finally, he found a spiral flight of stairs carved in stone, with hand supports engraved as if they were serpents that rose from some floor below, and continued through to some superior one.

"I must be in a halfway floor. So, now, towards were I go? Up or down?" Asked himself. Finally deciding to go up. But when he was going to start walking, the alarm of his wand, bell-like sound that only he could hear, took of shouting. He had to return to the guard room already.

* * *

A pair of elves appeared with a pot of soup and a plate of jelly fish, and placed them in the table in front of the patrons.

"Have you had any luck?" - Henry asked as he poured a piece of fish in his plate.

"Not yet, but we hope to find something tomorrow. -Harry replied, cutting the bread.

Both the three Aurors, and the two guards, where having dinner together, as a way to _catch up with their investigation._ The Aurors didn´t trust the guards one bit.

"Hopefully, your methods will be more successful."- Tomas said acidly. He took a spoonful of soup to his mouth and sucked noisily. Hermione frowned.

"Well for now the doors at each level are sealed, so unless he´s is a Dementor or a guard, Malfoys not going anywhere."

"Which reminds me, that we shouldn´t leave the kitchen unattended." -Said Ron. Harry nodded.

"Now it´s being watched by a couple of elves, but the best would be for we to take the work in our hands."

"Then we should do guards. How about if Tomas and me take care of it tonight?" - Henry graciously offered, while he finished chewing a mouthful of fish. The Aurors accepted.

* * *

For almost ten minutes Henry and Thomas had been gone to their guard in the kitchen, and finally, after a bubble of silence spell from Hermione, just in case, the Aurors stopped pretending to be asleep and stood ready to action. Ron immediately took his boots:

"I'm going now to watch that two." - Harry nodded and pulled the invisibility cloak from his bag:

"Take it, you'll need it." – Said, throwing it. His friend grabbed the silky material at fly.

"If something happens I will send a signal. - finished tying his boots. - See you." - After ensuring that no one in the hall was watching, the red head quickly left hidden under the coat.

"Take care." - Hermione said almost to herself. Cast the spell detector to warn them if anyone came into the room, and sat next to Harry on the pallet. His friend looked thoughtful.

"Did you find anything?" - Asked the black haired Auror straightening. "I have to focus on the case."- Told himself. But what happened to the white dementor kept haunting his brain.

Hermione looked at him seriously.

"This afternoon, I found Zabini in a cell."

"Malfoy's friend? What does he do in the basement? I thought there were contained only to the magical creatures." -Zabini also retained here... And the guards hadn´t told them anything. He didn´t like, it was increasingly clear that they have to be the culprits.

"Apparently, he´s now a vampire. I don´t know how he became one, didn´t ask. But he said that the day Malfoy disappeared, one of the guards bled him to unconsciousness."- Some achievement that of bringing a vampire to unconsciousness.

"Can we trust his word?" –He asked.

"I think so, he wouldn´t invent something like that for nothing."- And Blaise had looked so emaciated ... she shook her head. She shouldn´t be thinking about the physical condition of a prisoner.

Harry frowned.

"It can´t be more than deep dark magic.- disgust came over him, just thinking that someone might want to practice it, churning his gut. - So we have one, or several guards, practicing magic blood on Malfoy, and we don´t know why."

Mione nodded.

"The only good thing is that there are not many blood related spells, so it will be easier to find the one employed. I could send a letter to MacGonnagal, and ask her if she could send us some books about it. Surely she has one at least that could help. It doesn't exist today a day, a magic library larger than the one at Hogwarts, after all."- If she sent the letter now, the volumes could be here tomorrow. Hermione chewed her hair thoughtfully, mentally cataloguing all she had to look in them. –

"What was it like for you in the tower?" -She asked.

" ... I've seen the white dementor again, Mione." – That took her full attention, curious to know more.

"I talked to him, but I think even he has nothing to do with the case, he may need help. He isn´t... healthy. – Harry sighed. - I think something's wrong whit him, something terrible, Hermione. He was crying and shaking, and I know it has something to do with the Dementor Lord."

Mione shook her head.

"Harry. Look, not that I condom you worrying about bad people, not even about a dementor. But we are on an important mission. If more prisoners of Azkaban escape ... - her eyes darkened with memories. - You know what happened last time. - She looked at him all serious. – You have to focus. Worry about him when this is resolved. Until then I want you to promise me that you aren´t going to look for him."

"But Hermione ..."

"No! Harry, no. This is much more important than a Dementor. I know you, so right now promise me you will not go to him."

Harry gritted his teeth. He understood perfectly the position of his friend, but ..._ "I swore I would go see him, I swore I would!"_

"Hermione ... I can´t, really I can´t. He needs me."

"What about all the people who live out there, and you're threatening?" – She said angrily. The blame struck Harry like a sword.

"I'm not forgetting them. It will only take some minutes a day Hermione. I will not leave the mission."

"You think so now, but you will." - Said she knowing what she spoke about. Hermione sighed. –"You will not be able to avoid worrying about him, and you will, eventually, want to help. And you will lose a valuable research time, finding a solution to a problem that doesn´t concern you. - Put her hand on his. - You know I´m right. Now, please, promise me."

Harry looked away feeling divided. The small dementor needed him. The way he had asked to meet again... it was almost as if he was asking one last favour. He couldn´t let the promise go.

On the other hand, he understood perfectly the reasoning of Hermione. Deep down he knew she was right. But...

"I can´t."

"Yes you can. He will not die, Harry. You can help later."

He looked at her grimly.

"You can´t know that Hermione. You haven´t seen him."

"Harry, I know what I´m speaking about. Dementors can´t die, it's part of their nature." - She said in the tone that always wore when exposing a piece of knowledge unknown to others.

Her friend looked puzzled.

"I didn´t know."

"Now that you do, you can relax. So, do you promise?" - She insisted.

Harry hesitated. Hermione gave him a pleading look.

"Okay ... I'm not going to see him. For now." - Said defeated. He felt as if he was condemning the small white one to death.

"You did the right thing." - Hermione smiled at her friend.

"I hope so." - But deep down, he felt like he was making a mistake for which he would feel more than sorry.

* * *

" ... Co ... Aco ..."- Draco slowly opened his eyes, the light from the window illuminated the room grimly. It must have just dawned.

"I brought you breakfast."

He turned his head toward the voice of Lady Margaret, who smiled kindly.

"Good morning." – Draco said softly. He felt drained, but with the brain much clearer than it had been in days.

"I've been calling, but you slept like a rock." – The tone sweet and maternal.

Draco frowned confused. Usually he didn´t get long sleeps. Maybe a couple hours straight, before nightmares waked him. But never so long as today.

"Although it´s normal to be exhausted after the attack you had yesterday. Did you feel better?" – The female dementor asked worried, as she touched his forehead. Draco caught the shudder of disgust that tried to surface in his skin at the contact, and held it tight. Not wanting to upset the kind woman. _"She isn´t guilty of looking like a muddy corpse."_

"Yesterday…" - Questions danced in his brain, still half asleep. Then, suddenly, he remembered:

_"Hey, calm down, I will not hurt you."_

"_Why are you so scared that I know you can talk?"_

"_Maybe ... maybe I can use him to have some help."_

"_Why don´t we play, Malfoy?"_

_Screams._

"_... Wi… will you come at least? Even if it's only once?"_

"_Every day, I promise." _

He shivered up and down, but didn´t know if it was from discomfort or... _"Why didn´t he locked me up?" _He thought.

Margaret looked at his long silence worried. And Draco shook his head.

"No ... no, I'm fine." - Everything that had happened ... and yet Harry had not locked him in that cell. But he removed the hood, had to have seen him. He knew Draco. That hug ... he had apologized. -"I don´t understand"

Margaret sat beside him in the bed, quiet and sweet.

"You can tell me, honey. I know that something´s in your head." - And patted his hand reassuringly.

Draco looked up into her muddy eyes. There hadn´t been many people who had been kind to him lately. And Lady Margaret had cared for him since the first day he was dragged to the tower. And even if he knew that the Lord had subjugated all the Dementors of Azkaban, he needed to talk...

"The other day, when I went for a walk in the prison ..." - he said carefully_. "I can´t tell the truth"_

"Yes?" – She asked affectionately.

"There was a time when I took off my hood. I know I should not do it outside of the tower, but no one was around and it was bothering me."

Margaret nodded.

"But there was someone. One of the Aurors who came that day, saw me. But ... I don´t understand, he didn´t try to lock me up again. Why? It's almost as if ... as if he didn´t knew who I was."

Lady Margaret patted his hand gently.

"Surely he didn´t recognize you."

"But he saw me directly. I can´t be losing my humanity so fast ... can I?" - Asked worriedly.

"You shouldn´t worry so much, being a Dementor is not so bad." - said kindly, but when she saw Draco's face ...

"Were you scared?" – Margaret asked suddenly.

"Yes ... Does it matter?" – Draco blinked perplexed.

"Of course it matters. Our aura of terror not only works as an attack, but as a defence as well. If you were scared enough, even if you aren´t a full dementor, surely, unwittingly, you employed it. Thus what the auror saw, wasn´t you, Draco. But a Dementor like the others. The aura of terror, after all, is what makes us scary to others, and make us look as monsters." - She chattered.

_"Then Potter didn´t recognize me. So that´s why he apologized." _Draco sighed in relief. _"He has promised to come see me." _Couldn´t suppress the pleasant sensation that rose in his chest, like a small ember of heat.

_"But remember that if there´s someone to blame for your current situation, that is Potter."_ His conscience whispered. "I know all the blame is his. - he retorted internally- But he´s also, perhaps, the only one who can help me." "And above all else, I am a Slytherin and a Malfoy, I seize every opportunity." And decided to pretend, he had not felt the warm feeling of nostalgia, that came over him as he recalled the aurors embrace.

He smiled slightly.

"I'm glad you feel better." - Margaret said encouraged at seeing his fragile smile, something she had never seen him do. The lady rose from the bed vigorously.- "And now to take breakfast young man. You need to eat well."

* * *

The breakfast had been good and Draco wasn´t hungry anymore.

Although, he feared that his lack of appetite had more to do with the memory that the Dementor Lord had given him, than with what Lady Margaret had brought for breakfast.

He was sitting on the stone seat by the window, watching the wan light that managed to pass the thick barrier of clouds and mist. And the rough sea, bellow. Huddling a little more in his coat, feeling his skin increasingly colder, but nonetheless Draco would be watching the coming and going of the waves all the time he could endure.

It was reassuring.

The first time in a long time, he didn´t feel like bursting in mourn, or start crying.

The smell of Harry, his warmth, his voice ... came to his mind again and again, like the waves. A balm to soothe his senses.

The little white rested his head on the stone. It felt so good… _"I will come see you every day."_ "I'm waiting... Harry." He smiled slightly, it was the first time he called Potter by name, if only in his head.

"Bang, bang, bang!" – The knock at the door startled him. He straightened.

"Come in."

William, the servant of the Lord, walked proudly inside, as if everything was his. Draco squared his shoulders. If there was someone in the tower that he disliked almost as much as the Dementor Lord, that was him.

"What?" – Draco asked putting his most pure blooded tone, the one his parents had instilled so deeply in him it was second nature.

The other Dementor, a head taller than Draco, approached him, just making sure the white one took in the difference of height. The blond young man didn´t let it frighten him in the least.

"So proud you are. Especially considering that yesterday the whole tower heard your screaming."

"You came looking for something, or just needing someone to listen to your tedious talk?" – Malfoy retorted haughtily.

William glared at him.

"The Dementor Lord wants to see you."

Draco gulped, but didn´t let the other see how his words had affected him.

"All right. Tell him I'll go as soon as possible."

"He wants to see you now. Even asked me to escort you to his rooms." - Draco knew he couldn´t refuse, or it would be, much, much, worse.

" ... Okay." - He walked out, followed by William. Although inside, it was like walking to the gibbet. _"Harry... Where are you?"_

The room in the top floor of the tower was the most luxurious of all.

One of its walls was made of glass. The magnificent Gryffindor crest beautifully carved in it. Although the once, gleaming under the sunlight, flooding the room in gold and crimson colours, image, now was dusty and ignored under years of neglect.

However the rest of the room was clean and maintained.

On one side, a huge carved marble fireplace, showed what seemed like rampant lions roaring in it. The bed of solid wood, engraved with magnificent phoenix and the Gryffindor crest. The worn canopy crimson with gold embroidery made of heavy velvet. The floor almost entirely covered with gold and crimson carpets… It all worn, dull, but yet still beautifull.

The walls were almost entirely covered with shelves of ancient books, and the centre of the room was occupied by a table and two chairs made of dark wood and covered in sleek pillows. In the background a couch with cushions could be seen.

All of it illuminated by the golden light of hundreds of candles, and the orange bright one of the roaring fire.

If he hadn´t known better, Draco could almost have been deceived by the apparent warmth off the place. But since he knew what awaited inside, just crossing the threshold made him shiver in cold.

Despite the fireplace, the temperature was ice like, the candles lit didn´t glow even half of what they should...

The Lord got up from his shadowed in the corner chair.

"Welcome to mi chambers Draco." - His hissing voice made the slytherin shiver.

"Lord." - He merely answered.

The Lord told his servant to go, who hastily bowed before leaving the room, closing the door behind himself.

Now they were alone.

"Draco ... don´t be so nervous. It's not as if we hadn´t talked about this before." –Said with an undertone of danger. Draco swallowed hard but managed to stay upright and not tremble.

"Come, sit down with me." - The Lord took his hand gently, lax in his. And led him to the couch. Draco followed without resistance. Now remembering what happened the day before, and how among his panic attack he had cried and refused the Dementor Lord…He began to feel the fear in his stomach coiling like a snake.

Draco was made to sit on the couch, next to the terrifying Lord.

"You don´t have to be so scared." – It whispered, stroking the hand that he had not yet released, with the thumb. Draco made a supreme effort not to move away in disgust.

"I'm not going to punish you for yesterday, I understand you were having a panic attack."

Malfoy almost sighed in relief.

"However…" - the little hand was squeezed until Draco thought it would break. He could not avoid making a low moan of pain, but did not dare let anything louder leave his throat.

"I hope it doesn't repeat."

"No... It won´t repeat." - His voice breathy.

"Well. – The Lord loosened the delicate palm in his hand. Carefully removing the hood that covered Draco, admiring his stunning, yet, so sad, face. - I know you are not ready." -He said stroking his cheek.

Draco fought back the nausea that aroused at the contact. He wanted to run far away, but knew he could not.

"Unfortunately, we can´t do anything really fun until you turn completely into one of us." - Began stroking the rosy lips with his forefinger.

Draco wanted to close his eyes, pretend that this wasn´t happening, but if he did, he would only win more tortures. He knew it from experience.

"But ... we can still have fun together." – hissed the monster. Seductively pressing a little in more. – "Open your mouth."

Draco obeyed, half-opening his lips. The digit slid between them to caress his tongue. His stomach turned over, and for a second the blond thought he would vomit what little he had for breakfast. But he managed to restrain himself.

"Good boy. - Whispered the Lord. Draco felt like screaming. –Suck it."

Slowly Draco began caressing the thumb with his tongue. _"Don´t think about it, don´t think about it, don´t think abou..."_ He desperately repeated inside. Wanted to sink into the abyss without emotion, where he was able to disconnect what happened to his body with what was in his head. But knew he couldn´t until the situation came to a point, that he wasn´t really able to bear. It was his only defence mechanism, and what had kept him sane during those seven years.

The invasive sensation in his mouth slowly withdrew, to be replaced immediately by the tongue of the Dementor Lord. Who slid it inside like a serpent stroking every corner. Draco dug his nails into his palms, concentrating on the pain to not vomit. The Dementors putrid saliva mixed with his, leaving a taste of death that Draco hated with all his might. When he felt that he couldn´t endure a second more, finally the wet appendix retreated.

The Dementor Lord watched him, as he licked his lips like he had tasted something delicious. Draco dug his nails harder in his palms. Even when he felt something wet, and knew it was his blood, he didn´t care. Anything was better than this.

"Undress." – The monster hissed lasciviously.

Slowly he stood, legs trembling. Gathered all his will, even though inside he felt like he was breaking into pieces, and took a hand to the fabric.

The tunic of a Dementor is a part of himself, if not more important than a couple of hairs. They don´t feel pain if it´s torn, and sooner or later it fixes itself. But it takes a conscious effort to separate the fabric of the body.

He swallowed convulsively, trying to concentrate, but could not. He could not. Would not. All his essence revealed at the thought of being exposed to the creature. He began to tremble slightly, the punishment would be terrible.

"Well?" - Asked the Lord.

"I cannot." - Said barely louder than a whisper, looking down.

"I see ... - Draco hugged himself terrified. - Draco this is for your sake. The sooner you learn, the sooner you will stop suffering."

"Leave me alone I will not learn anything from you!"

He was brutally stamped to the wall.

The pain almost plunged him into unconsciousness, and Draco regretted that it hadn´t.

He felt vaguely how William turned to leave the room, closing the door behind himself.

And he moaned weakly, it hurt so much ... He couldn´t move.

Draco began to mourn in silence, powerless to do anything else.

_"He smelled of soap and sweat, and something powerfully masculine, that was, somehow, comforting._

Warmth and security.

He felt protected, safe from the horror that he had to suffer.

_"I'll come every day, I promise."_

"Harry ... Where are you?"

It hurt so very much...

**(It will continue)**

**Note:** The next chapter will explain the torture. Promised ^ ^


	7. Ice

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Note: **So much thanks for all your support. ^^

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 7-Ice**

_"He smelled of soap and sweat, and something powerfully masculine, that was, somehow, comforting._

_Warmth and security._

_He felt protected, safe from the horror that he had to suffer. "_

_"I'll come every day, I promise."_

_"Harry ... Where are you?"_

_It hurt so very much..._

* * *

Draco swallowed convulsively, trying to concentrate, but was unable. He couldn´t. Wouldn´t. All his being revolved at the mere thought of getting exposed to that creature. He began to tremble, knowing the punishment would be terrible.

"Well?" – The question calm, almost bored.

Draco just couldn´t do it.  
"I can´t…" - He said, barely louder than a whisper, his gaze on the floor, just so he didn´t have to watch it coming.

"I see ... – The sigh, so much cooler. The slyhterin hugged himself terrified. – Draco, is for your sake. The sooner you learn, the lesser you will suffer."-False kindness, frozen words.

_"Leave me alone, I will not learn anything from you!"- _Draco thought inside, but unable to say the words aloud.

He felt the condensation of his breath ... The soft whisper of rope sliding down the carpet... Closed his eyes, began trembling slightly, and this time couldn´t stop it from griping his body. Couldn´t end the shivers that raked his frame.

The dark aura of the Lord expanded becoming more oppressive and frightening, wrapping him gently. His respiration faltered, the temperature in the room dropped to almost unbearable. The candles were extinguished one by one, the shadows lengthened covering everything.

Outside, the first wails of thunder could be heard.

The vapour that Draco was breathing, seemed to become ice.

The situation, too similar to his stay in the cell, and the disease that nearly killed him, awakened terror, despair ... inside himself. His ribs brutally oppressed his lungs, in a much afraid reaction to panic.

The pain was spreading all over his body, for the effort of standing the stifling presence, perceived only as a whisper of darkness that slowly entered his head, his body, his heart ... invading, dragging him. Hopes and dreams disappearing in the obscurity, slowly and thoroughly.

He stifled a groan of fear and hugged himself a little harder. The hot blood on his palms began to stain his robes a beautiful crimson. Wherever he clung to the fabric trying to find comfort, appeared deep red spots like rose petals.

The dark lord stopped in front of him, the anticipation, fear and terror of knowing what lay ahead were too much to continue silent.

"Please don´t ... "- His voice cracked, like glass shattering.

Despite having closed his eyelids, Draco could feel the moisture that threatened to soak his eyelashes. The self-hatred grew unbearable.

Silence reigned in the room ... not a whisper, not a rustle, not even the sound of another breath that was not the painful crawl of his own.

The blond inhaled shakily, a convulsion seemed to shake his frame with the effort.

"Please ..." – He begged, repeated, more brokenly. The effort of speaking claiming the already little oxygen from his lungs. Feeling disgusted by his own cowardice. But unable to bear this silently. He was so scared ... _"I can´t go through that. Not again…"_ He thought in the edge of sobbing.

He could feel the black aura so close ... the breath of death touching his skin. A presence made of static electricity, which attracted and frightened at once. He wanted to throw himself at his feet and beg, but a piece, just a trace of the prideful Malfoy he had been, refused to give up that last bit of dignity.

His body as tense as a violin string, remained paralyzed unable to react.

The Lord Dementors bony hands landed on his shoulders...

The feeling ... Draco recoiled. So cold and frightening ... that tore the little oxygen that had managed to catch his lungs, out. He began to cough powerless to take fresh air; his throat was dry as dust, like he had swallowed ash. Another seizure came, as a reaction of his body desperately straining for breath. But nothing came to his lungs. Draco clutched his chest where his heart was pumping like mad, opened his eyes filled with tears. Grey and misty as a rainy day. Behind the figure of the Lord Dementor, outside, the storm had broken. _"It's raining ..."_ the moisture on his cheeks ... and in the glass. Draco began to fall forward ... the hold he had on his body broken... and finally, all of him collapsed on the worn carpet. The feel of the wool under his cheek ... _"It's ... warm ..."_ Rain drops sliding down the glass ... then… darkness.

Draco opened his eyes… and the pain almost sent his mind tumbling again to unconsciousness. He closed his eyelashes in reflex, just waiting for everything to stop spinning.

A faint moan escaped his cracked lips. What had happened?

The memory returned slowly, made him tense, caused a violent coughing fit to resent his battered lungs.

When he finally got over it, his mind full of scary memories, and breathing laboriously, Draco realized… finally that he couldn´t fell the aura of the Dementor Lord.

"Then I´m alone... For now." -The former slytherin wasn´t under any delusion, about his punishment being over. But maybe, he could do something to placate things a little. Took a breath to calm down, and began analysing the situation.

"Okay ... it hurts ... I have something broken?" From experience, he knew that any other hurt should be healed more or less, by his well-seasoned inner magic, in a few days or so, but a bone break ... for that, he would need help, and didn´t know yet, if he was going to have any in his present predicament.

So the slytherin tried to get an idea of the magnitude of the damage, he appeared to have received. Gently moved each arm and leg, one by one, evaluating the response of each of them. - "Okay, it seems I have no arms or legs broken. But I´m chained" -The clink of metal when performing the movements, seemed to indicate it. - "And... I´m lying… on a puddle?" He could feel moisture soaking his skin. Some icy liquid he didn´t think was blood. If it had been cold blood, it would be dry and sticky, not liquid and freezing. But the surface on which he lay, seemed solid.

"A stone ... a cell?" -He swallowed convulsively.

Slowly Draco opened his eyes.

He was in a stone-walled space, dimly lit by a torch whose wan light only managed to deepen the shadows. Humidity permeated the atmosphere, and the ground was effectively waterlogged. Some moss growed on the walls. The spellbound metal door in front of him, seemed the only entrance, and there weren´t windows.

"At least it´s not as small as my old cell." -The thought wasn´t didn´t give him any solace.

Unable to move, Draco stared at the ceiling, entirely focused on the moisture stains streaking the stone. Anything that distracted his mind from the panic and memories...

_"You think you're worth something? No one cares about you ..."_

_"You should have died ..."_

_"Spread your legs for me, love ..."_

Draco closed his eyes tightly.

He needed to forget, needed to escape. He felt is breathing quicken.  
_  
"Please no, please no ..."  
_  
"Enough! I don´t want to remember!"- Shout out loud, managing to suppress the voices and the memories... barely.

He clenched his jaw, and concentrated on sinking those reminiscences in the depths of his mind… and remembered…  
_"Hey, stay calm, I will not hurt you."_

_"Why are you so scared that I know you can talk?"_

_"Wi... will you come to visit, at least to once?"_

_"Every day, I promise"_

"Harry ..."- The memory of the Auror heated him inside, and took the nightmares away.

When finally, the squeak of the door opening came to his ears.

The Dementor Lord.

Every water drop on which the blond was lying, froze in contact with the robe of the terrible master. It felt like ice was forming in his hair, and in his own tunic. The breath of his lips turned into steam.

"I hope you've had time to think about your actions." - hissed at his side. Draco didn´t deign to answer.

_"Not now, you need rest." _Harrys words pooled, in his mind.

From his position on the ground, he could see that the Lord had something in his hand. A finely carved golden box.

"I see ... I thought we had overcome this, Draco." – The terrible one said gently, as if scolding a disobedient child.

The white one, realized, that since awakening in the cell, the little spirit that he had left since he started becoming a dementor, seemed, suddenly, to have revived.

_"What have I been doing?" –_Asked himself.

The last days his will had been gradually dying out, and he had slowly begun to become another of the faithful Lord Dementors puppets. But strangely, now, something seemed to have broken the ice cap that had been about to enslave his will. Why? _"Try to sleep a little, we will talk in the morning."_ The warmth of those words poured into his stomach, and seemed to melt the ice conjured by the mere presence of the Lord.

_"It´s because I'm remembering Potter?"_

Draco looked puzzled at the monster stalking him.

The Dementor Lord frowned. There was something in Draco that hadn´t been there last time. "I thought I had killed nearly all his happy memories" Annoyed by the delay in the emptying of the nasty bits of mankind, the Lord kicked the prisoner.

Draco caught his cry of pain_. "Definitely I have at least one broken rib." _The kick seemed, to have touched a broken bone; he should have received the injury while unconscious. The slytherin gritted his teeth against the pain. _"A green as intense as the Avada Kedavra, warm an hot as a spell"_ The look of the Auror. Thinking about it, comforted him a little.

The Dementor Lord took a step forward, perceiving the presence of a pleasant memory.

_"I have to give him something else to think about" _-A hissing and cruel laughter escaped from his throat, remembering what he had planned to do with the young blonde.

The black one sat by the little white, with a dripping venom smile marring his lips.

Draco swallowed. The smile gave him chills. _"Nestled in his arms, allowing himself to soak the aurors warmth."_

The Dementor Lord showed his sharp teeth in a grimace of disgust, when, after a slight shudder, the look he received from Draco was clear as crystal. Without fear.

He grabbed him by the chin brutally, taking his head toward him.

"Think you can fight me with a couple of ridiculous memories?" - He hissed menacingly.

The icy breath of the monster touched his face, smelling of death and putrefaction. The hand on his chin threatening to break his jaw.

He gathered his will. _"Draco buried his nose gently in Harry's coat, smelling of soap and sweat and something powerfully masculine"_ A shiver of pleasure ran through him at the memory.

Disgusted, the Dementor Lords claws dug in his cheek, blood began to trickle down Draco's chin and stained the white fabric of his robe.

"All right ... I thought to offer my gift later, but I see you are eager to take it."- The words so maliciously said reeked of venom. Then the Lord freed Draco from his claws, who´s head struck the stone at being released, but managed to contain any expression of pain.

The bony hands of the Dementor Lord unceremoniously tore his white, and already, tattered robe. Exposing to the dim light of the torch, a porcelain white skin, crossed again and again, with scars of past tortures. Some were still in the process of healing. The extreme thinness made his ribs clearly visible, the clavicles marked as a collar of bone. However, in a way that skirted tears, it was beautiful. The slenderness of the figure, the perfect proportions, the creamy skin, the incredibly narrow waist ... all of him talked about the pure blood elegance, only reached after generations of careful breeding.

"Beautiful ... "- muttered the Dementor Lord, possessively stroking the flat expanse of his belly.

Disgusted, Draco searched inside his mind for something strong enough to repel him, but could not remember anything quite warm, friendly and engaging enough for it.

_"Think, THINK Draco. Or are you going to let this monster..."_ He shivered and felt nauseated. The slight hissing laughter of the Lord came to his ears. His hands began to descend toward his thighs, _"I have to stop this now!"_

_"... Warm ... comforting arms surrounding his body, gently, very gently." _He felt the hands were advancing more slowly. _"The smell ... of soap and sweat ... Harry. He sighed quietly, it felt so good ... protected." _The hands had completely stopped in his waist. _"His chest, strong and broad, sheltering ... The touch of his hair on the face scrambled ... tickling ... – he smiled slightly."_ The cold palms left his body. _"The softness of his golden skin ... the intense green of his eyes ... A groan issued the delicate touch of his lips ..."_

A slap took him out of the dreams, in which he had not even realized had sunk.

The Dementor Lord was furious.

He didn´t know who had been Draco thinking about, but he had seen the tiny spark of love. Tiny, barely alive, but so beautiful. He felt disgusted. Repelled and furious to perceive a feeling that he had long since forgotten. For a moment he wanted to kill him ... but managed to restrain the need. _"Why kill him? When I´m finished, he would want to be dead... And he will be mine." _The Lord laughed insanely, coldly, at the mere thought.

Draco swallowed hard listening to the crazy sound, a mixture of hiss and laugh. And yet, he felt worse when the creature stroked his cheek in a mock imitation of affection.

"Whom were you dreaming about ... um? – He said sweetly. And bent to touch his lips to the pale ear. - You will regret it... And plead for mercy before I´m even finished." – A whisper before departing.

"I hope you like my gift." - The powerful dark one said, sweetly, as if talking to a lover. And opened the golden box he had brought with himself.

Draco gazed at the content.

Inside the chest there were two dozen magnificent golden needles long as his hand, gleaming slightly under the light of the torches. Thin as pins, and filled with exquisite carvings. They were true works of art.

"They're beautiful, right? My father gave them to me. – The Dark Lord took one out, and began turning it in his fingers, admiring the sight and finesse of its making. - Gold, made by hand. They are enchanted so that only one of our lineage can remove them once stuck. - He said gently, showing the one in his hand.- Originally they were for dissections. The enchantment prevented anyone from spoiling the experiment, or from stealing them. But you see ... my father never thought what more useful applications could have a spell like that." - Smiled, and the golden light cached and sparked in the tool.

_"Hugged a little harder." _Draco took energies from the thought.

"I also gave them my personal touch." - The sharp tip touched the chest of his immobilized victim. Not quite breaking skin, just a veiled threat.

Draco gasped, but did not look away._ "Nothing I say will stop him."_

"You see ... I added another spell, so that in case of being stuck in a living creature ... they react a little differently.-bright cruel smile in black lips- Cause tremendous pain to the victim, one can paralyze a limb, but if you take more than five ... fever, nausea ... you feel as if you are dying. But don´t worry, they are prepared to prevent that from happening. No rest, no relief, until I decide to remove them." – The bony hand stuck the tip in his chest, as easily as if it were butter. A horrible shock of pain gripped Draco, who, had not been chained, would have convulsed.

He gave a low painful moan.

"What do you think?" -The Lord whispered in his ear, licking his lobe sensually. The young nobleman refused to answer, proudly turning his face to the other side.- "As you wish."

Slowly, very slowly, the needle sank until only a golden drop could be seen on the skin, as if it were an ornament. With the entering of the metal spike blood began to flow, painting a little crimson thread that contrasted beautifully with the shattered and pale skin.

The pain was horrible ... Draco convulsed with every millimetre that was introduced in his body, writhing against the chains, unable to escape it. Tears flooded his eyes and began to slide down his cheeks ... before frosting on the pale skin.

Terrible screams escaped his throat.

"Enjoy it Draco. Enjoy."

* * *

It had been three days.

Three days registering the tower, watching the guards, and searching the books that MacGonnagal had send with Hedwig. All to no avail. And yet it had been disappearing much more food than usual of the kitchen, and no one had seen anything.

"When does he get it?" - Ron hissed indignantly, walking from one side to another of the guard rest room, like a caged tiger.

At the moment the three Aurors were alone, in one of the rare times when they got rid of both unsuspecting guards. At the moment, they were out taking their tasks inside the prison, while a couple of elves watched the kitchen.

Hermione sat before the fire, surrounded by heavy volumes. Just now going through another, ignoring Ron's bad mood and the strange attitude of Harry, who did nothing but mumble some statement from time to time while watching the flames in the chimney.

"Are any of you two listening?" – Ron asked, and Harry looked up started.

"Yes, yes ... I have heard you, Ron." - The dark haired auror murmured.

"And what I just said?" - Said folding his arms, upset because he was being ignored.

"..." - Harry looked away trying to hide his guilt. Ron threw his hands to heaven.

"What I was saying? You aren´t interested in either case!"

"Don´t be a kid Ron. We have encountered bad situations other times." -Said Hermione, finally lifting her face from the book. The redhead sighed and flopped down beside her.

"I know ... it's just that we don´t have a clue. Nothing. Since we came here, all had been conjectures. It's like trying to catch smoke. I tell you, we should interrogate the guards."

"We have talked about it, Ron. We can´t without permission from the ministry, and to ask for something like that, we need proof to support our suspicions. Especially because they were interrogated before we got here." –

The redhead ruffled his hair frustrated.

"Then I don´t know what to do."

Harry got up and began pacing thoughtfully. Until, finally, he stopped, and looked at his friends with a gaze of unwavering determination.

"That´s it. We will have to review what we already have. You, Hermione, return to the basement to see if you can get some more detail from Zabini. - Mione nodded and began to put the books back in his magical pocket. - Ron, you to the kitchen. It occurs to me, that, although we have not succeeded in discovering anything, the elves working there must have seen something."

"I did ask them, they don´t know who had taken the food." - His friend said wearily.

"You have said so, who. What if we were wrong, and was not a who, but a what, the one to do it?"

"A that ... ... Could it be...- immediately Ron began rising with renewed energy. Quickly took his coat. -See you at dinner. Good luck." –And leaved hastily, shouting goodbyes over his shoulder, as he walked through the door.

When the wood had closed behind him, Hermione approached his dark haired friend.

"Harry. And you?" – She asked seriously.

"I?" – He asked back, as if he didn´t understood the question thrown by his friend.

"You know what I mean. You're not going to return to the tower, right?"

"... It´s only logical that it's me, the one to do it. I've been there before. Besides, you were the one who spoke with first Zabini, it will be more difficult for some detail escape your brain." - Hermione grabbed his arm before he tried to get the invisibility coats bag.

"At the tower may also have gone Ron."

"But I had been there before, as I just said." - He repeated without looking away from the pack. His monotone voice, the uneasy averted eyes…

"Precisely. Harry, we've talked about this already. You promised that you wouldn´t look for him until the case is solved." – The brave woman, reminded his best friend, so very seriously.

"I know. I'm not going to see him." - The green as crystal of his eyes, rotated back to Hermione. So hard and solemn…

"All right. – She released his arm. – Just be careful. ¿Okay?"

"Aren´t I every time?" – Harry asked with a wry smile. He picked up his coat, and left an uneasy Hermione alone.

Harry sighed as he walked toward the aged door. Since Hermione had made him promise to not seek the small white one again, he had been feeling uneasy. In his head he kept the feeling that something dreadful had happened drilling inside every few hours. He felt again, and again, the scourge of guilt, and now felt it once more when his hand touched the doorknob. Furious with himself, the auror savagely crushed the sentiment. "First I have to finish the mission." Hermione's words about his irresponsibility, and how he would ultimately endanger the magical world's people, returned to his muddy mind. With renewed determination, the former griffindor opened the door, and began moving down the hall.

* * *

Lady Margaret looked sadly at the chocolate frog she had gotten from the backpack of one of the Aurors. The wrapping paper shone golden in the light of the candles that adorned the hall, bright as a Christmas present. Cheerful.

"I hope he can eat this..." – She muttered to herself, pressing the box against her chest. The lady dementor knew it was risky but ... his little had not eaten in three days. Since she found him on the floor of his room, sounded by a drying pool of blood. Delirious, shivering non-stop, consumed by fever ... His tunic, broken in no more than a tattered and bloody fabric, barely clinging to his frame. And those golden ornaments ... the blood seemed to flow from them. She had tried to take them out, but could not, and just touching them made the little one cry heartbreakingly.

She dragged him to bed as best she could, and ran desperately for help, but ... The Dementor Lord had not wanted to offer it. Said Draco deserved this punishment. Margaret did not know what he could have done, to deserve something so hard. She had prayed, begged help for him. .. But...

After that, she had no dared ask to the rest of the dementors. If the Dark Lord said that he deserved it, no one would contradict him. But she couldn´t leave Draco in that state.

So, took a basin of warm water and returned with Draco.

During the following days she had cleaned his wounds. Applying cold compresses on his forehead, though the fever had not decreased. Trying to avoid more injures, when he suffered spasms due to the pain...

Noting worked as his condition worsened day by day.

She had been trying to feed him, but could not get in his body more than a little water. He seemed unable to hold anything else. Once, Margaret even tried to give him a little memory. The reaction was so violent, that she thought the seizures would kill him.

She had not tried again.

This piece of chocolate, robbed from the visitors, was the only food that she knew for sure, would have some effect in him. She didn´t know whether it would be beneficial or harmful ... but if she didn´t do something soon, Draco would die anyway.

Margaret turned away from the wall of the hallway, where she had been thinking, and walked toward his room.

When she came inside, the lady had to stifle a sob.

In the centre of the huge bed, Draco seemed little more than a rag doll. His tunic had recovered a little, and now looked more like a dirty rag than anything else… but his body shook like a leaf, fevered and so ill... the blond groaned weakly, unable to issue any other sound through a throat that was already three days raw, shattered after issuing scream after scream, over and over again, until it was no longer capable of more.

When the Dementor Lord had been done with him, Draco had lost count of all the times he had fainted, only to be awakened again by the terrible pain of a new needle piercing his skin.

Finally, after losing consciousness last time, he had been dragged back to his room by William, who kicked him brutally.

The pain almost plunged him again into unconsciousness, and Draco regretted that it hadn´t been the case.

He felt vaguely, when William turned to leave the room, closing the door behind himself, and moaned weakly, it hurt so much ... he couldn´t even move. And began to mourn in silence, without strength for anything else.

_"He smelled of soap and sweat and something powerfully masculine, somehow comforting."_

_"Warmth and security."_

_"He felt protected, safe from all the horror he had to suffer."_

_"I'll come every day, I promise."  
_  
"Harry ... Where are you?"

It hurt so very much...

That was three days ago.

Margaret sat in the corner of the bed, took the cloth, now dry on Draco's forehead, and dipped the rag into the bucket that was on the nightstand, carefully re-applying it. She noted the laboured breathing of her child. The way the muscles contracted painfully under the skin. The pallor of his lips almost blue...

The lady took the chocolate frog from her pocket, and after looking it a moment, opened the box. The small chocolate creation jumped and tried to leave, but Lady Margaret managed to barely catch it.

Margaret sighed, relieved that she had not let the sweet escape.  
Looked at the dying blonde, looked at the frog. If it wounded him more… but what could she do? There wasn´t anything else, she hadn't already tried…

Finally, pulled one leg from the chocolate frog. Gently threw back Draco's head. Crumbled the piece of chocolate in her fingers, and put it in his mouth with a little bit of water to help the swallow. Massaged his throat... The young man swallowed convulsively. Margaret looked at him expectantly.  
After a long minute, the silver eyelashes quivered, and finally, Draco opened his eyes, barely.

Harry had just entered the tower, when an exclamation from one of the rooms made him stop. Something hit his shoe.

Lowering his eyes, he saw a chocolate frog escape jumping at three feet.

**It will continue.**


	8. Start

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 8- Start**

_Harry had just entered the tower, when an exclamation from one of the rooms made him stop. Something hit his shoe._

_Lowering his eyes, he saw a chocolate frog escape jumping at three feet._

The eyelids closed again, covering gray irises.

* * *

Disappointed, Margaret let the air she had been holding, leave in a sigh.

"Draco?" - But her child didn´t move again. _"I thought it had worked, but ..."_ Finally, her body flopped into the chair beside the bed, shoulders slumped. Careful not to harm him more, took one pale and lifeless hand in hers. Gently beginning to caress it, trying to console herself, thinking that at least he was still alive. But, how much more time, he would resist?

If Draco didn´t begin to recover soon ... the lady shook her head. She refused to think about it. Dementors couldn´t die. But Draco... "He's not a dementor, not entirely. And his soul is already in critical condition. Not quite free, not tied at all. If he dies now..." She didn´t know what could happen if he died. "What can I do?" Resting her head on the edge of the bed, she began to pry.

"Chocolate in a tower filled with Dementors?" Harry thought. It could only mean one thing. Someone who was not one of those creatures, was here.

"They have to be the guards… or Malfoy."

And looked in the direction the frog came from. One of the doors in the hall seemed ajar.

Silent as a shadow, Harry began to move towards it. Wand in hand, ready to attack or defend as needed. All his senses alert to any sign of danger. Showing all the grace, of a large feline predator.

Then, he felt it. In what was the very aura of the tower, another icy presence cold and eerie, was trying to infuse fear in his heart. He shook off the feeling.

"A dementor"

Putting the hand on the door frame, and opening it a little, the auror slid inside, hidden under the invisibility coat. Just pausing upon entering, scanning the room with his eyes, carefully studying the environment and its occupants.

The wan light of a cloudy day lit the chamber, making everything look grey and depressing.

In the stone seat under the window, blood stained bandages and towels had accumulated in a dirty white mess full of dull red. On the table that stood in the centre of the room, untouched dishes piled haphazardly, some already in a state of putrefaction. The chimney with its fire nearly of, covered in ashes, had leaved the worn carpet in front blackened and dirty.

He knew this room.

His blood chilled inside.

Since the war began, since he lost his godfather, Sirius. He had fought to prevent something like that to ever, ever, happen again. Had trained relentlessly, his magic, his mind, his body. To avoid having to feel one more time, the terrible void that produced the knowledge, that he could have done more. That he could have saved someone else. That he not doing the right thing, had caused the suffering of someone cherished. That he hadn´t been fast enough, hadn´t been attentive enough.

And he had made it.

He was the best Auror of the division. His reason for fighting; "To help people." And yes, he wanted to help all the people who lived outside Azcaban, but never, ever wanted to sacrifice an innocent for it. And certainly not him...

"This is the small white's room." Blame cruelly nipped his consciousness.

He took a deep breath, preparing for the worst. And slowly, he turned to the bed.

A dementor ... A common dementor was sitting in a chair beside the bed, curled up on i. "That dementor ..." reminded him of the dementor who had run to help the white, when he suffered the panic attack. He seemed to be keeping someone confined to bed, but from its position Harry couldn´t see who.

_"Could ... could you come, to see me, at least once, please?" _He remembered.

"It cannot be him." All himself revealed at the idea that the small dementor...

Began to approach the bed.

_"If ... if you could ... I think I could stand it."_

"Please don´t let it be him..." Harry prayed inwardly.

With each step he took, the clearer the memory of the little dementor became.

The delicate tremors that shook his body, as a sob after another raked him.

The cracked whisper of his voice. As if the words were an effort to his frail body.

The overwhelming smoothness of his robe. Softer than any silk, delicate as spider web. Warm and cold at once.

The fragility of his figure in his arms. His extreme thinness. The feel of the ribs under his hands.

_"I swear, I will come every day." _He had promised.

The sad light, just reached inside the curtains ... White ... The breath died on the aurors lips.

The little creature looked like a limp rag doll that had been abandoned in the giant bed. His beautiful white robe, torn, shredded, turned into a dirty rag, stained with blood and ashes. The pale skin barely seen, was covered with wounds again and again, bleeding, just closed, scabs, scars ... the little white must have been tortured for months ... The painful way in which he struggled for breath, as if he weren´t capable of taking oxygen to his lungs. The red spots that soaked the sheets around... trembling faintly feverish.

_"You know it, so now promise me not to go after him again."_

_"Okay ... I promise."_

The guilt hit him brutally. He stepped back. Felt vomit rising, but managed to contain it.

The little white had been so scared ... He knew something was happening ... And left him alone. He had begged him to stay, how could he let someone do that to him? Harry gritted his teeth, and put his hand on his chest where his heart was a rock that tried to pump ice. "I will not let him be hurt again." He knew it was impossible to pay for what he had done, but was determined to prevent further damage.

The white shuddered and began coughing violently. Margaret was quick to hold him when blood and bile were painfully emptied into a basin beside the bed. Harry's body shook with the effort of resisting the urge to go and hold his frail body, caress and soothe him until the attack passed.

The desire to protect that pale, wounded, exhausted, helpless, creature, rooted with the intensity of a flame inside his heart. A fire that he knew all too well. The same savage determination that had led him to enter the chamber of secrets and confront a basilisk with only twelve years, to save a girl he hardly knew, was what feed it.

He watched a moment, as the other dementor cleaned his charge with a dirty cloth.

Staring at them, he fervently wished to be the one who was cleaning those pale lips, barely glimpsed beneath the fabric of the hood. His hands trembled with the effort to keep them still; he wanted to wrap him in his arms so badly... But one certainty made his way into the aurors mind. The white was not getting the treatment he needed. If it followed like this, infections could kill him.

_"Dementors can´t die." _Had said his friend, but now he wasn´t willing to risk believing her words.

He could look after him, had received medical training in the Aurors division. At least, make sure he was better attended than here ... and more safe. "God ... if I had come as I promised, I could have prevented this." The thought only served to increase the guilt that consumed him.

The other, wrapped carefully the small white in the bed sheets, as he trembled, quivering again and again.

He seemed to be getting worse.

"Whoever did that, has to be another dementor. What other creature would be able to do something like this to one of them?" He looked up. The vision of the small in this state... The coldness in his green eyes would have frightened anyone who saw the auror at the time. "When I take the one who did this, he would want to be able to die." His eyes froze completely with the Avada Kedavras green reflection. The dishes on the table, the glass in the windows ... trembled, cracked and exploded almost immediately, scattering glass and crockery on the floor in a violent wave that shook the furniture. Margaret sat up with a cry on her lips.

Harry kept his power with steel reins, controlling it. Right now there was something much more important than revenge. "I cannot let the small remain in the tower, he is in danger here." It seemed that the other dementor wouldn´t harm the small one, but he could also inform the Dementor Lord if he saw him there, and Harry had the intuition that the Lord was guilty for the state the small white was in. He pointed his wand at the dementor that was looking in all directions in fear.

"Specto Patronum!"

* * *

The place was as silent as the last time she went down to the basement. The smell of dead algae, mildew on the walls, humidity, the waterlogged soil almost to the knees... all helped to turn the environment into something disturbing and unpleasant. Hermione wrapped her coat better around herself. Down here the temperature was colder than in higher plants. But the worst was the silence. Under the sea level were the vampires, sleeping during the day now. Looking so pale and motionless on their cots ... it was almost like walking through the morgue. Hermione shook her head to take off that stupid idea, before she started to get nervous.

"The sooner I talk to Zabini, the sooner I can get out of here." And started walking with more vigour, splashing loudly... until something alerted her.

"What's that?" She listened while walking. There was another sound behind her. Someone seemed to be following. Further progress, pretending she had not noticed, revealed it to don´t be a guard. But there wasn´t n anyone else with reasons to follow her in Azkaban. And she doubted Malfoy would be so stupid as to search for her.

"We'll see what you intend." Sue thought.

The auror walked as if she hadn´t noticed anything. The splash was becoming stronger. She could hear it coming, approaching her. -"Wait a minute ... is not being secretive. It´s coming ... to get me!" - Suddenly ...

"Auuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhh !" - She turned. Just in time to see Fenrrir Greyback at the other end of the hall. The monster also saw her... Hermione ran. The beast crouched showing yellow bestial teeth.

The hunt had begun.

She knew that spells wouldn´t be effective. She had seen Greyback in action during the war. It took four Aurors only to immobilize him.

"I have to get to the next level. If I cross the barrier between them, he isn´t going to be able to follow me." She knew this was her only chance. A wolfs laughter, and some screeching sounded behind her. Hermione sprinted. "Run!"

Her legs ached, her lungs were burning. Behind her she could hear Fenrrir coming closer and closer. Her heart beat like crazy. "Just a little more" Just had to turn the corner to reach the stairs… They were in a deep zone of the fourth basement, near the cell of Zabini. Here was another way out, she knew from the Azkaban map that Henry had shown them. She struggled even more ... It was almost over.

"No way out!" The place where the door should be was occupied by a wall of rock.

A blow sent her brutally against the wall. The shock of cold water at hitting the flooded floor, paralyzed her for a moment. Hermione emerged coughing and spitting. A low wild growl...

"It´s behind me!" Struggled to sit up, dodging the razor-sharp claws by a hair. They struck the stone with a horrible grinding noise, scratching up rock and mildew. She managed to stand up stumbling.

"Stupefy!" - The blow threw Fenrrir back bariums meters. The Auror began to run again. "I have to return to the main entrance." But that meant retracing her steps, and passing over the werewolf. "Think Hermione, think."

"Specto Patronum! Search for Ron!" -Shouted to the misty otter as she ran. Fenrrir was already behind her. Mione turned back ready to fire like she had before. But he had predicted it, crouching. Her spell ran over the Death Eater and hit the opposite wall without touching him... The coup against his chest, threw her against the bars of a cell taking the air from her lungs... Something began to slide down her temple ... dizzy, Mione put a hand to her face.

"Blood ..." - He left the gate just in time. The vampires, hungry, imprisoned, fed on potions, without having tasted a drop of blood in years ... began to awaken to the smell of blood.

Claws slid out from each cell, trying to catch her, inhuman hissing and snarling, savage elongated fangs, faces full of hunger sticking to the bars, wanting her blood, struggling to get out.

Ferrir laughed merrily, the sound sharp and incongruous coming from his throat.

"What will you do now, Auror? If I don´t kill you, they will do it."

Hermione stepped back watching him, wand in hand, determined not to be intimidated. Her hair was wet and it stuck to her forehead and neck, slipping from her shoulders to mid-back. The wrinkled and soggy clothes showed some tears. Blood trickled down her forehead to the neck, staining the hem of his coat. Her gaze steady. She knew she was in a very difficult situation, but was unwilling to surrender. "If Ron does not come soon ..." She had to buy time.

"You know that if you kill me, you will be executed. Your soul eaten by a dementor. Is not a pleasant experience."

Greyback's laugh was his answer.

"I will worry about it when you die, What do you think?" -He lunged, dodging her defensive spell. Hermione tried to pull away, but wasn´t fast enough. The monster's hands closed around her throat, leaving her breathless.

"I would have liked to play some more with you. But unfortunately, I have jobs to do." Hermione supported the tip of her wand on his chest.

"Stupe... fy." - This time Greyback withstood the pull without moving. Although it was obviously painful.

"That you will regret." - Squeezed harder, enjoying the pleasure of the moment, the slow agony of his victim. Hermione struggled to get loose, but she was running out of strength fast. The vampires roared, shouted, hissed ... shouting?

"Open the door Granger!" - _... "Zabini"_ The dark vampire grabbed the bars as hard as the rest, but his gaze was not lost in bloodlust.

"Open it!" - The Auror was running out of breath, small black spots began to appear in her vision. The red intensity of Blaise's eyes...

"Hermione!" - Blaise... She raised the wand with a trembling hand.

"Alf .. gray .. dor ..."- murmured weakly, felling like she was, finally, falling into unconsciousness.

The rusty creaking of a door opening.

* * *

What was that? She looked frightened in all directions. The glass crunched underfoot.

"Specto Patronum!"

Suddenly a magnificent deer lunged at her.

Laughter.

The joyous laughter of a woman, and the depth one of a man.

A baby...

Remembered happiness cruelly assaulted her, reminding her of ... "Mama I'm in love." The smile of happiness of Eba ... "Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" Raven hair in flames... being consumed by fire.

She couldn´t stand it. With a hiss of despair, Margaret ran to the door.

The dementor fled like a soul running from the devil.

Any moment now, the rest of the towers Dementors would come to punish those who had dared to enter their ground, uninvited. He had to pull the little out of here. Now!

Harry threw down his coat of invisibility, as he ran quickly to the bed. Dropped to one knee on the edge of the mattress, almost as if making an offering to the pale and tortured creature, and carefully wrapped the young with his auror coat. Watching helplessly as blood stained the material.

"He's so tired, so weak ... he didn´t even complain when I moved him." The fierce desire to protect him, coiled in his stomach like a snake. Guilt fed the flame in his chest, with a wild and steady beat.

He picked him up. Just weighed the same as a child, and looked as innocent.

Attracted him protectively to his chest, and wrapped both of them in the invisibility coat.

"No one will hurt you again." – harry whispered in the dark.

* * *

The store was completely filled with dust and cobwebs, but a quick scorguffay dealt with it. Carefully, Harry deposited his precious cargo in a pile of freshly cleaned and stacked pallets, and quickly took an armful of old blankets to cover him.

They were on one of the abandoned storage rooms on the first floor. The place was occupied by the old furniture of the rooms of the guards, unused pallets, dusty blankets and pots. The warm atmosphere, very rare in Azkaban, was precisely why he had chosen this old room. It´s back wall was in contact with the rear wall of the kitchen, so that heat from one, filtered to the other.

"He doesn't stop shaking." He watched how around some of the wounds, had begun to form dark circles, signs of infection. And along with the fever and chills... This meant that the disease was already advanced. "I have to clean the wounds and keep him warm, make him sweat to flush out the infection." The tunic fabric had adhered to the wounds with dried blood.

"Kreacher" – Harry called.

The cantankerous old elf, appeared with a pop in front of his master.

Because the Auror had the magic key for the barriers of the prison, the old elf also had permission to enter. Harry hadn´t been sure it would work with all the protective magic of Azkaban in the middle, but inwardly thanked his assumption for being correct.

"Master." - He bowed ceremoniously. Since Harry took him under his hand, and showed him how much power he had... the little devil had learned to respect his new master. And finally, after a time, also to appreciate him. Kreacher was proud of the power and strength of his master, but regretted he didn´t employ it for more useful things.

"What can Kreacher do to help his master?" - Smiled from ear to ear, clearly happy to have been called, an evil and macabre smile, but that was how he was.

"I need you to bring the first aid kit, a bowl of warm water and bandages. Make sure that no one sees you while you're at it." - Said quickly and authoritatively, knowing that Kreacher would handle everything efficiently.

"Yes master." - And disappeared with another Pop.

Kreacher returned faster than Harry expected, making everything float behind himself; the kit, bandages and the basin filled with warm water. Deposited the load by the makeshift bed with a snap of fingers and awaited.

"Here it is, Master Harry." – The auror nodded.

"Thanks Kreacher. Did you see anyone when you were at it?" - Asked as he returned the medicine kit, to its original size. The kit was an auror one. Looked like a white box no bigger than a hand, until it was enlarged. Actually, it was almost the size of a suitcase, containing rows of potions of various uses; for regenerating blood, bones and organs. Pain relievers of various intensities. Fever, infections, and some of the most common disease treatments. Ointments for bumps, scrapes and scars. It also had bandages, but judging by the many wounds the white had, he had thought they wouldn´t be enough. Hence, asking Kreacher for more.

"No, master, Kreacher has not been seen. As you ordered."

"Well done, you can go." - He had no time to stop and explain why he needed all that material, or why he had a wounded dementor there. Anyway, he knew that Kreacher didn´t need explanations.

The old elf made another bow.

"If you need anything, Kreacher will be happy to help master." - Harry dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and the elf disappeared with a slight pop.

He turned to the small dementor.

* * *

She broke the water surface, and hit the bottom. Desperate for some air, opened her mouth. The putrid stagnant water entered her lungs suffocating her. Mione knew she was only inches away from the surface, but couldn´t move. Her conscience began to fade. Suddenly, a sharp pain in her skull suddenly roused her. Someone pulled her by her hair, dragging her to the surface in one brutal movement. Hermione began to cough violently expelling the water she had swallowed, and taking the welcomed oxygen. The pulls culprit pushed her aside when something hit the wall, where she was only half a second ago, blowing shards of rock and moss.

A wild roar.

"Stay out of this vampire! She´s my prey!" - The auror pulled the hair of her face, panting, just in time to see an enraged Fenrrir, just three feet away, showing sharp yellow teeth while saliva dripped down his chin, eyes gleaming gold. His height and the powerful muscles... the death eater looked like a beast about to kill. And all that stood between the monster and she, was the crouching body, slender and fibrous, of Blaise Zabini. Curled very dark black hair, showing the fangs in a wild and threatening manner, and his eyes shining blood red...

"I'm not going to step aside, Greyback. So get yourself another dam, this is mine." - Hissed.

The werewolf attacked him. If Blaise moved away the hit would take Hermione. But to the surprise of Mione, Blaise didn´t avoid the attack, instead came to meet it. Both opponents hit a barred cell receiving scratches from its occupant. Blaise further pushed against the bars and the sharp claws of another vampire, sinking his fangs in Greyback's throat, ripping and tearing at the same time, with the firm intention of cutting his throat out. Fenrrir roared and grabbed the dark vampire, wrapping his chest with his arms, using all his strength to try to break the thorax box, and plunge the ribs in his heart. All the while being torn apart again and again, by the sharp claws of the prisoner.

Hermione watched in shock as blood ran down the neck of the werewolf bathing Blaise. Heard the painful cracking of the ribs of the vampire. The roars of one and other, the maddening sound of all vampires now awake and thirsty. The claws on the stone and metal, hissing, screaming, howling...

Suddenly the two opponents stood still. The dead like bodies slid languidly to the ground, partially sinking in the water. Hermione got up, she had lost his wand during the combat, but still took a couple of steps toward them. Zabini didn´t move. And then, suddenly, the vampire opened his eyes. They were dull, without the murder gloss that she had just seen, his skin a pale grey, he looked exhausted.

"Are you okay?" - He asked. Hermione snorted, coming to herself.

"I'm fine. You should care for yourself. You could have died." -Approached the vampire, and began to help him get free from the lifeless body of Greyback. With a groan of pain, Blaise finally got out of the imprisoning embrace.

"Now that's funny. - He gasped. - I'm already dead." - Coughed raggedly.

The comment infuriated her.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

The vampire laughed softly.

"A, the brave Auror worrying about me, the vile prisoner." - The wounds on his back and sides were already beginning to close. He cracked his shoulders to finish repositioning the bones.

Mione became serious.

"Why did you save me? You risked your life." - The eyes of both locked together. Softly, very gently, Blaise pushed a lock of the aurors curly soaked reddish hair, with the tip of a finger, barely touching the skin of her forehead.

"Should I answer that?" - His voice serious and slightly hoarse, made Mione's breathing quicken slightly.

"If you're looking for prison release, I can´t give it." – She said trying to gather as much coolness as possible. What other reason could he had to help? The vampire smiled slightly, as if mocking himself.

"I know you wouldn´t; you're too attached to the rules for that."

"What then?" – She almost feared the answer. Zabini nodded thoughtfully.

"Look, what do you think of answering me a question, in reward for my help." - Finally he said, abruptly changing the subject. Hermione studied him a moment, but finally let it go.

"About what?"

"I wonder… how a dementor comes to be? - She frowned at that. -What were you thinking I was going to ask?" – The Italian vampire said, with a wolfish grin. Hermione blushed to her hair.

"Nothing. Nothing ...like… "it""- Vehemently denied.

"I ... "- and came perilously close to the auror, who pulled back trying to hide her discomfort.

"Why dementors?" – She tried to change the subject, and Blaise seemed to shrink on himself, stepping from her, suddenly took by memories.

"Because, when you take seven years to living with these monsters, you end just wondering who released their damn presence." - Hermione noted wasn´t a very large request after what he had done for her. Although quite a strange one.

"I will look at it, it's the least I can do." - The dark smile that he gave her caused the acceleration of her pulse. He sat up and went back into his cell, closing the gate behind himself. Hermione also rose.

"I thought it would take more persuasion to convince you to go back there." - Blaise turned to face her.

"Not that I like it here, but your buddy Wesley is approaching."

"Ron?" - She had forgotten about the patronus she sent after him.

"I... "- Mione did not know what was in his eyes at that time. –" I'd appreciate that you don´t tell him that I helped."

"I ..."

"Hermione! What happened? You okay?"

* * *

Gently, being careful not to damage him more, Harry began to separate the fabric of the wounds to which they had stuck with the dry blood. A clean cloth, soaked in the bowl, soaked the area to make it easier.

Touching the pale and battered skin... it took his breath away. A shudder ran through him, almost as if electrocuted. A sigh of pleasure escaped the aurors lips. It was so soft ... like velvet, like the most perfect silk, like wind in a dive when flying in his broom. Frosty, electrifying. Sensual, much more sensual than the rustle of his tunic.

"So soft ..." - That word couldn´t ever describe it, but Harry didn´t seem able to find a better one. He wished to extend the palm and caress every inch of skin, explore all his length, from feet to face. But when he saw the wounds that marked him... immediately came to himself. Embarrassed and feeling guilty about the desire, he had felt for the poor and ailing creature, he pushed all notions about it to the depths of his mind.

"I'm supposed to care for him, no take advantage of his state!" Determined to protect the young white, even against himself, he retook the work of healing. Every touch, every skin contact, urged him to let go, to surrender to the touch of almost porcelain. But just thinking about the pain it would cause ... he ground his teeth. Never, never, was he going to hurt him again. **Never!  
**  
Every time he retired a piece of cloth, a wound opened again and bleed, deep red stains in contrast with a skin as white as snow.

Draco shuddered. Something ... no, someone was touching him. It was like a balm for his shattered body. It seemed a lifetime ago, since the last time he had been aware at a minimally discernible level, but the warm touch of those hands had returned his mind to the surface, from the nightmarish world in which he had been submerged. The pain was still terrible, and if his stomach weren´t empty, even of bile, he probably would have vomited.

All his muscles seemed to be burning with pain, as if he had exercised far beyond their resilience, and their lungs were flooded with something that was definitely not air, making breathing a maddeningly laborious and agonizing drill. But the worst were the needles, he could feel every inch of each under his skin, in his flesh, sending excruciating pain downloads at regular intervals. Each time the pain of a wave faded enough to allow for a more quiet breathe, the next hit him with renewed intensity. Mostly Draco appreciated the fever that dulled his senses, because it deadened a little the push. But there was something more, calming his suffering far more effectively.

The pleasant sensation, of another hot and horny skin on his.

Definitely not a dementor. That was certain. He recognized the difference with the icy touch of the person, who had been caring for him before. He thought it was Lady Margaret, but couldn´t be quite sure, in those moments, agony had erased any logical perceptiveness of his mind. But these hands ... their mere touch was a relief. As if the heat spreading from them, calmed his very core. As if through the gentle touch, he could feel the concern of that person for him, his desire to protect him, like a flame burning inside. At his heart, he had the tingling feeling that he knew who owned the touch, but his dull mind seemed unable to think, and actually, just wanted to enjoy it ... so he allowed his mind to be lulled by the pleasant sensation.

He opened eyes of a dull red, and sighed. Granger and Wesley had just left. Luckily, the red haired idiot had not realized he was awake.

He had blindly believed the story of his friend, who said she had been the one who had managed to throw Greyback against the bars, using a stupeffy. And the werewolf was slained by the vampire who was inside. A terrible accident, that thanks to Merlin, had saved her life. How could Wesley be so obtuse? As if such a wound in the neck, could have been caused by someone through a fence. He snorted in exasperation. The only good thing, was that the incident didn´t transcend beyond the female auror and him. He rolled onto his back with his eyes on the ceiling. Granger had improved over the years, that was undeniable, and surely, surely, he had thought, for a moment, about asking for a bite as payment for his help. He was sure she would have been tasty, like homemade muffins, pudding and cinnamon.

But that was just a twinge instigated by hunger, nothing more. He had saved her, only for one reason.

To save his best friend. Draco. She would find out for him the way to stop the process, and then... well, he may find a way to manipulate her in helping him a little more.

But he still could not understand why had Fenrrir been loose. Certainly, not in the area of the vampires. He had his suspicions, of course. But really he would have gone so far?

Harry saw a picture ... that he knew, later, would return to his mind. The Dementor's naked, beautifully white, body.

He had removed the tattered robe, all of it except the hood. He had not wanted to touch it, remembering the only time he had, and the panic it caused.

And what was under the cloth was simply beautiful. He had never thought, that word would ever been say, about something like one of those nightmarish creatures. But this was. The extreme thinness, multiple injuries, the gray tone of the skin ... didn´t manage to cover the perfect proportions, the graceful elegance of the long limbs. The incredibly narrow waist, sensual curves and the creaminess of the pale skin.

Carefully, deliberately ignoring all other matters, he began to clean the wounds.

"What's that?" - There was a golden drop on the marblish skin, like a fine ornament. It seemed a trickle of blood was flowing from it. "A piercing?" He didn´t know the Dementors may be interested in these things. But it seemed that torture should have reopened the wound of the ornament. "I better take it out." Very gently, tugged at it.

A needle, a needle long as his hand, bathed in blood, glistening under the candlelight. A small masterpiece of torture.  
**  
It will continue.**


	9. Cobweb

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Note: **Ok, here comes a little of slash. ^^

**Emeralden Rapley: **Um… you came near to guess the truth, but no the dementor Lord is not Godric griffindor. XD Pansy, yea, is with them in Azkaban, but… I will reveal nothing; you will have to read to know. XD Thank´s for your reviews. ^^

**Yaoifanfake: **It will be Blaise/ Hermione, sorry but I really, really hate Ron XD. Thank´s for your review ^^

**Rosalind: **No! Poor Zabini, don´t be so cruel. XD Even so, very much thanks for your review.

See you all in future reviews, I hope. Bye ;)

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 9-Cobweb**

_-"What's that?" - There was a golden drop on the marblish skin, like a fine ornament. It seemed a trickle of blood was flowing from it. "A piercing?" He didn´t know Dementors may be interested in these things. But it seemed that torture should have reopened the wound of the ornament. "I better take it out." Very gently, tugged at it._

_A needle, a needle long as his hand, bathed in blood, glistening under the candlelight. _

_A small masterpiece of torture._

* * *

He was dozing lightly, aware of nothing but the pleasant warmth of the blankets. Even if he couldn´t remember why it felt, like he shouldn´t be feeling this well. That he should wake up. Like a nagging whisper in his head.

For a while he tried to ignore it. But the feeling became more urgent, until he finally had no choice but to pay attention.

With a sigh of resignation, Draco opened his eyes. And blinked a few times to clear his view.

"Old clunkers?" The room he was in, seemed full of old furniture haphazardly stacked.

"It looks like I´m in a storage room, but it´s clean at least."

He frowned. The sense of urgency piercing his conscious mind. His awareness seemed so cloudy... Why it felt like he was forgetting something? The old slytherin closed his eyes exhausted.

"Something ..."

And he remembered.

Azkaban..., the Dementor Lord, Potter...

Abruptly he was up. Looking in all directions, tense and alert, waiting to see the monster appear one way or the other, it hardly mattered.

After several minutes with no sign of his presence, the nervousness wrecking his body began to calm down.

"He's not here." - Sighed with relief. And that's when he noticed another thing that had gone unnoticed in the confusion of the moment.

"I feel no pain..."

After the agony in which he had been submerged the last days, of the torture, needles, fever, pain, nausea ... it was like nothing of it had happened. He looked at himself.

His tunic was, thanks to Merlin, still white. Somewhat ragged, but at least it showed no tears or stains.

He rolled up his sleeve.

Still just as skinny and sickly pale, his skin was still crossed by scars, but there were no open festering wounds. Some of the marks were pink, the ones which were more recent, showing their fresh healing. But there was no pain, just a slight discomfort when he tried to flex his arm.

"The needles are not ... The Dementor Lord?"

_"Only someone of my race could remove them."_

Draco recalled his macabre laughter, almost sensual in the way he had enjoyed his cries. No, that sadistic monster would not have released him. **That**, he knew for sure.

"But then, who?" It must have been someone of his lineage.

Do any of the other dementors, perhaps, be part of his family? But he knew none of them would have helped against the orders of the dark lord. Then, who? And where was he?

He got out of bed.

After some time searching the room, the only thing out of place he found, was a medical kit, a basin, and some gauze.

"The kit looks too professional..."

The creaking of the door behind him…

Draco straightened.

Steps.

He panted.

He could feel a presence stood behind him.

Looked over his shoulder...

_"Potter!"- _The thought word nearly leaving his lips.

Harry smiled reassuringly:

"Feeling better?"

Draco finally turned to him. Not knowing what to say. He hadn´t expected him to be his savior. But who else could it be? Who in this damn place had a hero complex? Thought jokingly, although the usual harsh tone was absent from the words.

Potter was staring at him, waiting patiently for his answer. Seeing finally, that, for a moment, his mind has been lost in thought, Draco shook himself inwardly for his carelessness, and finally nodded.

"I'm fine."

The Auror smiled, wide and relieved.

"I'm glad."

His smile was warm and pleasant ... it brightened his face in a way that Draco had not contemplated before. Something fluttered in his stomach…and made him start pacing the room, pretending to observe the environment.

"Why have you helped me?" - Asked almost in a whisper, without turning to face the dark haired man. For a moment there was silence, as if Harry were debating the answer. Until finally…

"No one should suffer so." - Answered softly. He had almost responded something else, a response that still tingled his lips. _"Because I could not bear to see you so."_

"Yeah ... but… you didn´t came as promised." – Couldn´t let the bits of blame out of the statement. He knew Potter was his only chance to break the curse, and should try to earn his good will. And throwing accusations at his face didn´t seem a good way to get it. But damn it! He had felt so bad when he didn´t appear... He wanted to cause the auror at least a portion of his own pain.

"I'm sorry." -The voice so contrite... Draco felt Harry moving a few steps until he was at his back, so near he could feel his heat. It was so appealing... he wanted to be enveloped by that warmth again. Feel protected and safe. But…

"Why didn´t you come?" – He didn´t dare look, because if he did, he would fall in his arms again, and his pride wasn´t letting him forgive Potter yet.

"You didn´t know, but I'm here with some friends on a mission. One prisoner has escaped and is loose in Azkaban, and he has even freed another dangerous prisoner."

_"Another prisoner?"- _The question came at Draco's mind.

"Who?" - Asked in a monotone.

"Fenrrir Greyback. But don´t worry, it's fixed. He attacked a friend of mine, and there was an accident that ended with his death. Because of that, we weren´t able to interrogate him about where´s Malfoy, the prisoner we're here for."

Draco swallowed._ "That bastard has freed Fenrrir and blamed me? But why? What can he gain from that? One moment… His partner... Granger?" _If his partner was Granger then the pig had it difficult, she was smart enough to figure out what was happening. _"That means he needs to get rid of her soon. That´s why, Fenrrir was unleashed."_

"Is she all right?"

"Hermione´s good, just suffered a bit of a scare."

The white nodded.

"I'm glad." - _"I´m glad Smarty is alive. Hopefully, she will catch that son of a bitch, and make him pay for what was done to me."_

Hands on his shoulders startled him.

"What I meant. Is that, that´s why I didn´t came as promised. For the mission. If we don´t stop him as soon as possible, he could release more prisoners and cause a riot."

_"Yeah right, because I have nothing better to do. How about getting free from this curse?!" _But he didn´t say a thing, just swallowed hard and nodded.

"I understand." - The warmth of those hands began to mess with his head. Then he remembered vaguely. The warm feeling he had when he was consumed by fever. Kind hands easing the pain... and realized…_ "They were his hands."_

"I'm glad you understand. But if I had known what was happening, I wouldn´t have broken my promise, I never wanted to get you wounded." _–"And I won´t let it happen again."_ A silent promise. He turned the white gently in his arms, so he had him face to face. –"If you let me help, I would do anything to stop the one who did this."

_"He means it. He really wants to help me." _- Draco could see it in the intensity of his gaze, the firm curve of his jaw, the tension in his body as if ready to protect him. He didn´t know how to feel.

"Who did you that?" - Asked Potter. Gently taking him by the chin, lifting his face even if he could not see under the shadows of the hood, but he wanted to feel, that at least, he was being looked at.

Draco fought the sobs that threatened to escape his throat swallowing with all his pride. _"Do not cry again in front of Potter. Do not."_ He looked up. Harry's eyes were of a green so intense that one could not but be swayed by them.

"The Dementor Lord." -just barely a whisper, but it was enough.

Harry held the curse he would have wanted to shout.

Against the Dementor Lord there was not much he could do. He was the leader of the Dementors and who kept them under control. If he did something to him, not only would he receive a reprimand from Kingsley, but probably end up being judged, or something like that.

He was almost certain that to touch the link that kept the creatures under the governor of the ministry, would be considered a crime. And he would send to hell those bureaucrats, if not for the consequences, of what would happen if those things got out of control ... He knew, quite well, what they were capable of. He couldn´t risk letting them loose in the world, spreading terror in their wake, devouring souls of innocent people. He might as well let Malfoy release more prisoners. Hermione had done a good job in reminding him of the safety of people out of Azkaban.

He kept his eyes firm. What else could he do?

"I can´t go against him."

Draco sighed. He should have known that he was doomed. Wanted so bad to scream, but managed to hold back and retreat a few steps. Needed to breathe, calm down ... or he didn´t know what would he do.

The voice of the Auror took a moment to penetrate his terror filled brain.

"There are other ways. I can talk to the minister of magic. Surely he can send you to other site, some other place away from Azkaban. A place where he couldn´t hurt you."

The white pulled away, taut as a bowstring.

"Where are they going to send a dementor that isn´t worth to patrol Azkaban? That's all we serve for." - Just hissed self contemptuously. Shielding his pain behind the anger.

Harry just could not listen to it.

"Then come with me. I have a big house with some hectares of forest, and strong magic barriers. You'd be safe." - Said vehemently. The note of self-loathing in the white's words had bothered him more than he could ever admit.

"You'd take me out of Azkaban?" - _"Out of the hell I live in?" _His tone so soft and unbelieving ... Draco felt his heart racing.

Potter came to him.

"Yes." - Such confidence in that one word...

"... Thanks. – Draco felt his voice breaking. - I ... Merlin ... I'm pathetic." - Tears were rolling down his cheeks without his consent. But he couldn't seem to hold them inside.

Harry hugged him gently, gently, offering support without asking anything in return. Draco took it. His head falling on the aurors chest.

He had missed him, he had missed this. So the blond man inhaled the aurors scent, sinking his nose on the red coat. It was so reassuring… _"As sun and nutmeg, soap, sweat ... Harry"_

For a while they were still, neither wanting to break the moment, until finally, curiosity made him ask.

"Who removed the needles?"

"I." - Answered Potter calmly.

* * *

_"WHAT?"_

She closed the book titled; "Mysteries of dark creatures."

A week had passed since Fenrrir tried to kill her, a week filled by various sources of frustration. Ron hadn´t got anything out of all the elves. They refused to talk.

The guards weren´t still offering any clues.

It seemed the earth had swallowed Malfoy.

Harry did nothing but disappear as soon as she was distracted.

And she couldn´t discover anything about the blood spell used in Zabini, or where the bloody Dementors came from.

She was just in the guard room surrounded by stacks of books about blood magic and dark creatures, and none appeared to contain the answers she needed.

She took the next. A worn book belonging to the restricted section, which MacGonnagal had finally consented to send, only after she argued their need for it.

"Nox Criature."

The yellowed crackled parchment sheets, where written in Latin and the handwriting looked quite worn, very old. Hermione prepared for the arduous task of translating it.

It had taken a couple of hours, but finally looked like she had found the information she was looking for. Or at least, part of it:

"Dementors: Perhaps whatever these terrible creatures are to be present in this volume, it's debatable. For we all known that their existence is not natural and therefore, questionable whether his nature is one of obscure creature, or of created creature. But since it is undeniable that they are alive, and are dark, we will treat them as simple dark creatures, and explain to those unfamiliar with them how they are birth.

She turned the page...

"The pages are plucked!" – Hermione looked at the place where they should have been, and where it was clear that the volume had been torn. Such lack of information, gaps in the texts, and now this.

_"Someone has taken to conceal information about the dementors."_

And it must have been long ago, judging by the yellowed edge of the rips. The history books, encyclopaedias... they had gone to great lengths to hide the information.

_"Why?"_

She felt her curiosity awaken.

And she always grew with challenges.

* * *

Draco was... surprised was a very light way to put it. Potter was of the Lord dementors lineage! Or at least of the same lineage.

_"Well, they are of the same family. Surely Potter descends from a brother or uncle or something, of the Dementor Lord. So, what? It doesn´t have to matter to me. Does it?"_

What mattered to him, the possible family ties between them?

_"I should be happy for the luck I've had, and not give it more weight than it has."_ He nodded to himself. Yes, that would be best. He couldn´t imagine any possible relationship between the knucklehead kind Auror, and the sadistic monster boss of the tower. So better not think about it.

Harry had noticed the sudden rigidity of the small dementor when he said that he was the one who had removed the needles, but decided not to comment on it. At the end of the day, he didn´t know what he had gone through, and didn´t want to ask questions that could hurt him.

Both stared awkwardly, neither knowing what to say...

"Grrrrr!" - Draco turned completely red and put a hand to his stomach.

Harry couldn´t help it.

Suddenly, Potter's merry laughter filled the room.

"Ha, ha. What's so funny? I have been days without eating, is a perfectly normal reaction." - Malfoy crossed his arms indignantly.

"I….Sorry"- Harry said, trying not to laugh. His reaction had been so funny...

Draco snorted. _"Commoners."_

"Okay, okay, I will stop laughing." - But a smile was still dancing on his lips. –"I have better put some solution to that hunger, before the roaring monster decides to eat me."

The joke made Draco blush even more, who made a sound of disgust. But before he could answer Potter was already talking.

"Fancy some porridge? There´s still quite a bit left from breakfast..." – And stopped in midsentence, getting suddenly serious, recalling a detail. _"He's a dementor, they don´t eat food."_ He looked at the white, feebly. – "Although if you prefer some memory, I..."

"The porridge it´s well enough!" – Draco replied sharply.

Harry looked at the little dementor, perplexed. The white cleared his throat timidly.

"What I mean, is that the porridge is good for me. It´s okay if I also asked for a glass of water?"

Potter grinned, eyes sparkling. Draco knew he had said the right thing.

"Of course. No problem." - Harry didn´t even think why a dementor would eat food, instead of memories.

The bowl of porridge had been thoroughly cleaned of food, and now rested on the floor at Draco's foot. Both of them were sitting in the makeshift mountain of pallets, in the absence of a better seat.

Draco felt full and relaxed. However inside himself remained a slight feeling of hunger, as if he really didn´t need to eat more, but felt like taking dessert. And he knew why it was he was feeling that way. _"The curse goes on ..."_ Clenched his fists frustrated.

"... Name?"

"E?" - He hadn´t been paying attention to Potter, and smiled kindly, to cover it.

"I was asking about your name. You still haven´t told me how to call you."

_"Damn, what can I say? Come on Draco, think."_

"I don´t think you could pronounce my name. Our language is not prepared for your throat." - _"Good response"_ Congratulated himself for his cunning.

"But I have to call you somehow." – Potter insisted awkwardly, like a teenager asking for the name of the girl he likes. Strangely Draco found himself thinking of it as something adorable, instead of stupid. He shook himself mentally.

"Give me a name." – He suggested. _"That´s it, spare me the job."_

"Really? Wouldn´t you rather choose?"

"It's okay if you do it for me. You will be the one to use it, after all." - Finally Harry nodded, but did not seem entirely convinced.

"Maybe ... Viely. - Just said blushing slightly. - Means white, not very original, I kno..."

"I like it." - Draco interrupted him. It was strange, but even a terribly obvious and boring name as it was, Viely sounded good. And for some reason, it being chosen by Potter and no other, made it really beautiful.

"Do you ... like it?" - Harry felt a smile threatened to stretch the corners of his lips.

"Yes, sounds good." -Shrugged, trying to downplay his feelings.

The Auror smiled so brightly that the image was recorded in Dracos mind as a memory that would always accompany him.

"Viely then."

The name on his lips sounded like a sweet smoke, of which Draco knew, he could become intoxicated.

"You haven´t told me your name." - Barely whispered, breathlessly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. - ruffled his hair nervously- my name is Harry."

_"As if I could forget it"_

"Thanks for_…-"Saving me? Giving me a name? For being be so warm and friendly, and for your smile, and ..."_ - for everything. Thanks for everything, Harry." - The seriousness in his voice had a soft sediment. Something the Auror read and drank like a dry plant.

"It´s nothing... Viely."

* * *

His steps were soft on the stone, without disturbing the dust, step down step until his feet began to sink in standing water. Until his tunic was soaked, and the slippery substance reached his knees. Going through it, by corridors silent as tombs, skimming scum-covered walls, to finally stop at a sad cold cell.

Inside, a single figure lay on a filthy mattress, just above water level.

His hair was as black as the hour before dawn, his skin was no longer gilded by the sun's caress. He had been present when it ceased to be, moving to a pale white like the belly of a worm. And he never forgave himself for failing to prevent it. He had failed his best friend when he needed him most, and although Blaise had never blamed him for what happened, he never could help feeling that he could have done more.

He removed his hood.

And put his palms on the bars:

"Blaise."

His voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough to shake the dark lashes as strips of silk. The vampire opened his eyes. Dull hungry red, barely contained, surrounded by deep purple circles.

"Draco." – He whispered. Blaise rose wearily to approach his friend. Even with bars separating them, the vampire stretched out his arms through them to embrace him. They hugged each other through the metal, both seeking the comfort of the other in this nightmare that was Azkaban.

"Sorry I couldn´t come sooner." - Draco's words were muffled by his lips being posed in Blaises hair, where they had gone to rest in their embrace.

"It's okay, but I was worried. I thought that the monster could have made you something." - The temblor of his best friend, didn´t go unnoticed. – "Draco?"-

"It´s nothing." - Barely whispered.

"No shit! What has he done?" – And separated from him slightly to see his face. The sad eyes away from his… In that instant, he wanted to be free, just to embed his claws inside the Dementor Lord's chest, through his ribs and around the heart, squeezing slowly to observe, peacefully, as life was extinguished from his eyes. Even if he knew something like that wouldn´t kill him. But it would be very satisfying.

"Draco?"

"Can we, please, leave it? I don´t want to talk about it." – Blaise thought for a moment in insisting, but finally he closed his mouth, because he could see clearly the pain his friend was in.

"Potter helped you?"

Draco nodded.

"He's being good with me. Although I don´t know yet how to make him help breaking this curse." - Blaise smiled, the smile wrinkles caused the spider lines to flatten in his tired skin, making him seem more vital than he actually was.

"Don´t worry. I have convinced Granger to do it." - Draco's eyes widened as an owls.

"How…?"

Blaise told the story of Fenrrir´s attack and how he saved the Auror.

Draco listened… and hugged him far more tightly. Tears threatened to slide down the curve of his cheek. But even if they did not fall, the vampire could smell the salt in them.

"Draco?"

"Do not foolishly put yourself in danger!" - Hissed breathlessly.

"... "– Balise understood the feelings of his friend, he felt the same. They were all that was left in their world, they two and Pansy. All three were more than friends, were the family and the support of the others. What if any of them got hurt? It was a thought so horrible he couldn´t even take having it inside his head.

"Sorry." - Whispered, stroking Dracos back.

For a few minutes they continued to embrace, until Draco calmed down enough that his rational mind returned to operation. They separated, but neither really wanted to.

"You are hungry, and I have to return before Potter notes I left." - Had taken advantage of Harry sleeping and eating breakfast with his peers in the guardroom, to go down and see Blaise before anyone saw him. He hoped at this time the Dementors will be in the tower.

"Draco, you don´t need to do it. You aren´t fine." - But Draco could see the need in the wrinkled skin of his friend, and the red of his hungry eyes, and he could not go, knowing he could do something to help.

"I want to. Blaise, you need it, and I will not let you starve if I can help it". - The vampire hesitated. He was so hungry...

"Come on." – And extended his wrist between the bars, offering the pale, naked skin.

Blaise wanted to resist, he really wanted to. But he was so thirsty, couldn´t contain it anymore, and all he could do, was try to be as gentle as possible, when he took the thin arm between his hands. Bent his head, touching the thin skin with his lips in an almost apologetic kiss.

He could feel the pulse and the flow of blood under his lips, smell Draco. Vanilla, nutmeg, sweat, and that indefinable something that was only him. He didn´t know how, even after seven years after, he could still perceive fragrance of vanilla and nutmeg in his skin, and thought that, maybe, those smells simply were part of what was Draco.

Carefully, parted his lips and let his fangs elongate by the hunger, little points as pins that pierced the skin without trouble. Blaise licked the first drops of blood, and it was like he couldn´t stop, started drinking with passion, like a madman.

The blood of his best friend was dark and warm, like a drink that had been left cool the warmth of life had already begun to leave, but still retained enough to heat his icy stomach. It was sweet and sticky like melted caramel and ripe strawberries, gently spiced. And had a core, an exotic background, that only a discerning palate, as the vampire's, would appreciate; The essence of a pure blood.

Draco felt his breath become deeper and his pulse quicken. The point where Blaises fangs had pierced the skin seemed so hot that he thought he would be burnt. The warmth began to spread to the rest of his body, weakening his legs, so his body had to slip against the bars, and he ended sitting on the floor with his forehead against the cold metal. Between his thighs the flutter of butterflies began to awaken his member. His breath came in short little bursts of air.

Blaise began to feel intoxicated by the blood, the smell of Draco and the sensual rhythm of his heartbeat. He could hear his breathing becoming deeper, as his blood ran faster and faster, until the roar was like a song as sexy as destructive. He wanted to drown in it and drink all that was Draco, eat him, own him.

His own member stood up in response to his desires.

Sweat began to slide down Dracos neck, as the pale wet hair stuck to its forehead and cheeks, like a caress. Blaise's lips on his wrist had become a point of stimulus so powerful that his body shook. His cock was so swollen ... and felt so wet ... his free hand slid up to it. He began to feel somewhat dizzy, almost drunk with pleasure. Stroked gently, without really noticing the gesture, without really thinking. The delicate touch tore a trembling moan from his throat, and the sound tore a twin one from the vampire.

Blaise didn´t know where he began and ended Draco. He was so full of his essence… could feel it run through his own veins. Dracos moan was so delicate that made his desire flame, desire to re-listen it. He wanted to take him in his arms. To possess him. He drank more frenzied, with abandoned passion. Draco's moans as a melody of pleasure, one after another, each one more subtle and muted than the last. Inflaming his desire, causing a vigorous throb between his thighs.

Draco's body would have slipped loose until he plunged into the icy water, but one of the vampire's arms had wound around his waist and held him upright when nothing else did. He trembled, and was covered in sweat, and his hips moved very slightly, undulating movements of pleasure. But his hand had fallen loose, too exhausted to move. Was frozen and yet seemed to be burning, and was so tired he could only go with the increasingly fierce wave of pleasure, that was swirling in his stomach.

The ecstasy was so close ... Blaise opened his eyes for a moment. The groans of Draco had gone in to the soft whisper of his choked breath. And then he saw his friend in the edge of death… for his sake. His parted lips were blue and shiny wet with saliva. His skin pale moon, hair slicked with sweat. Gently shaking in the grip of a killing passion.

He was so beautiful…

Blaise parted his lips from the wrist, and his body exploded with ecstasy. The intensity of the movement of his fangs, retracting from the skin, took Draco to orgasm at the same time. It was like a wave that engulfed them both, and made them feel loved and away from hell for one bright moment.

**Continue**


	10. Magic

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Note: **A bit more slash. And well… Reviews please? I really, really need some to keep me going. ;-;

**Emeralden Rapley: **Don´t worry Emeralden, they will ^^

**TroMin: **Thanks for your review. I´m happy you like my fic even if it´s full of creatures. XD Hermione and Blaise won´t be together for a bit, but don´t worry they will someday. ^^

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 10 - Magic**

_Blaise parted his lips from the wrist, and his body exploded with ecstasy. The intensity of the movement of his fangs, retracting from the skin, took Draco to orgasm at the same time. It was like a wave that engulfed them both, and made them feel loved and away from hell for one bright moment._

For a moment he remained completely bland. Lack of blood, and being waist deep in icy muddy water, only worsening the chills that had begun to take over his body. Blaises arms curled around his back, and drew him a little closer. The bars that separated them jabbed their chests, but Draco didn´t care when he could feel lips on his forehead. They were warm from the given blood, and that made him smile slightly, despite everything else.

He missed the warmth of his best friend.

"I'm sorry, I've taken so much." – Draco felt the sound against his skin.

"It's okay. Besides, we have enjoyed it, and that's good for me." – His hands slipped between the metal bars and delved in the dark curly hair of Blaise. Playing with his curls as the blond knew he loved.

"Don´t try to distract me, that technique became useless when we were eight." - But Blaises voice had a slight tone of amused surprise. His embrace became a tad narrower, and his nose sank into the soft blond hair from Draco's temple. – "What would I do without you?"

The small laugh of Draco sounded like an old and tarnished bell, a sound that was trying to be cheerful, but contained the sadness of someone who has seen too much, and was too much spent. And the echo was too suffering for a person that young. Something that spooked of lost innocence, and immense sadness. And the sound made Blaise bite his tongue to keep still and quiet. Because he had to hold the pieces of his friend on site and keep him whole, and not grab the bars that separated them and shout with all this might, and try to pull them out, which was what he really wanted to do, but that he knew would be useless.

Instead he kissed the soft and delicate skin of the pale temple and forehead, the tip of his upturned nose, and the curve of his cheek sunken by hunger, sleep, and suffering. And wondered how hunger could have sculpted his face, to make it the most beautiful and fragile sight possible.

With those eyes, so clear, surrounded by delicate mauve dark circles, so deep and sad you could drown in them. Those fine glassy lips wet with saliva, which had the same colour of the roses from the garden of his mansion, that last summer they were free. And that pale skin thin as tissue paper, under which, he could read, if he really tried, the entire map of fine spider web like, purple veins.

He kissed the corner of his mouth, and the tears that even Draco didn´t know was pouring, and licked them with the tip of his tongue making the pearly drops his. Savouring them like he had tasted his blood. They were salty and cold, as much as his best friend, shaking and shivering without a complaint passing his lips.

Offering the heat of his just fed body, he tightened the hug even more, and Draco's hands slipped from his hair to his neck, returning the hug.

They hugged each other as hard as they could with the metal bars in the middle, as a last shield taking away two bodies, that otherwise, would have been put together as puzzle pieces. Pressing so hard against them, that later would be marks on their skins. Marks of metal and desperately clinging fingers, but none cared the least. So they kept it for a while, a few minutes or an hour, but no more than that. Because they both knew that this momentary consolation had to end, if they wanted to really be saved anyway.

Finally was Draco who spoke first, and made the first effort to unravel their members.

"I have to go."

"I know." – They looked at each other.

"I will come again soon. - Said Draco quietly, almost as an apology. - Would you tell Pansy that I'm all right?"

"It´s a few days now that I haven´t see her. But when I do, I will." – Blaise didn´t even consider the possibility of not seeing her again, like he wasn´t ever going to contemplate the possibility of never seeing Draco again.

Draco frowned worried. What could have happened to Pansy?

"Don´t make that face. She´s the best located of us three. The guard would not let anything happen to her. Surely with the aurors swarming Azkaban, they have kept her locked. As things calm down a bit, Pansy will come to see me. Don´t worry."

Blaise's words got Draco little calm. Unfortunately he couldn´t go and look for Pansy, not unless he wanted to see her confined to a cell again.

The only reason she was still fine, was because when interrogated with verisaterum had nothing to tell.

And the best thing for her was to continue that way.

He had not seen her since he was cursed, and both, the one and the other, knew they were fine thanks to Blaise.

Luckily the vampires were not affected by that potion, otherwise he wouldn´t even have been able to see his other friend.

Without verisaterum, and torture being banned by the ministry, there was little anyone could do to make him confess, and anyway, the guards would not have allowed it. For different reasons, but the result was the same. And Draco was able to see his best friend.

"Go. If you delay, Potter might suspect something." – Blaise helped his friend up holding his arms and pulling gently upwards.

Draco stumbled a bit, due to the weakness cursing in his nearly empty veins, but soon recovered. The curse making its work in sustaining his life.

"I will come as soon as I can." - Said as he took the first step back.

"That's what you always say." - His friend replied with a smile that did not reach his eyes. Draco wanted to erase it, and replace this false one with the real smile that he missed so much, but he had no time. – "Be careful." - Finally said with a hint of sadness hidden in the background.

"You too." - Blaise replied.

And those were the last words they exchanged, a moment before Draco began to retrace his steps back to the room.  
-

He felt wet, cold, and a little dizzy. But much happier than when he had left.

Maybe he was too tired, or dizzy, or just was that the man was really quiet. But in the end it was irrelevant the why, because he didn´t feel him approach.

Draco was putting his hand on the knob of the door leading to the ground floor from the basement, when a hand closed around his arm abruptly flipping his body. His head hit the cold metal of the door, getting him momentarily stunned.

"Have you missed me?" - The voice was calm and collected in the stale air of Azkaban. As lazy as cigarette smoke. As lethal as cancer. Draco gulped and looked up.

"Tomas." - His voice did not quite tremble.

The guard was the same as always. Dressed in a black regular guard coat, that just made him look skinnier and taller than he was. His light brown hair neatly pasted to the skull and aquiline features, hard and sharp as ice chips. His mouth was tight in a constant grimace of bitterness, his blue eyes as empty as mirrors.

"You haven´t answered my question." – His hand slipped of Dracos hood in a gesture almost of tenderness, until his face was uncovered. Big blue cruel eyes looked for the terror that he himself had carved there. The vision gave him a feeling of justice, even if he would never admit having missed it.

He had missed the brightness of those light eyes flooded with tears, the point just when that beautiful voice broke unable to issue one more cry, the way the smooth pale body adapted to his when the blond had stopped fighting.

Draco was a Death Eater, a murderer, a creature of upper vile and despicableness, and the son of a monster. But sometimes the most horrible taste could look the most sweet and appetizing. Draco was like a rotten fruit covered in caramel topping and sugar icing, fresh baked cream and cotton candy. All delicate sweetness concealing a corrosive and ulcerating poison.

"I ... "- Draco knew he had to say something, but his voice broke and his eyes began to flood. Lately he did nothing but cry.

Tomas nodded slightly, imperturbable.

"Right, cry, it´s the least you can do for all the people you have hurt." – The guard stroked his cheek with long fingers like spider legs. One of the tears slid across his check, until Tomas took it, and looked at the perfect crystal drop for a moment.

It almost seemed real.

Draco began to shake more violently, and not only from cold, eyes pinned to Tomas's face, wanting nothing more than to close them, but not daring to do it. He remembered well the lessons learned over the past seven years, and a couple of weeks away from his master wasn´t enough time to forget. And although he had prayed endlessly for not having to need them again, now he could not help but follow them to the letter.

Which entailed not looking away from him, no matter if his throat was torn by the screams, or if he could barely stay conscious. His eyes couldn´t move away from him, it would entail aggravating much, much more, his situation.

"It seems that you haven´t forgotten what I teached you. - Said dispassionately. - That's fine. I would have been disappointed otherwise." - Tomas put his hand in his pocket, his eyes, so cold, glueled to Draco's own. – "It's taken time to have you away from any of them. The Dementor Lord is watching you right. I don´t blame him, there are very few who can see beyond that pretty face of yours." - He took out his wand. Draco stuck his back to the door. – "But I do know what's underneath. You are like your father. A dark and disgusting creature." - Posed the wooden tip on his throat. – "And the only reason I haven´t killed you yet, is because someone like you doesn´t deserve that relief." - His last words contained such hatred, they might have been acid.

Draco wanted to shout that he was innocent. He hadn´t chosen to be marked, had not chosen to be Lucius son, or killed anyone, and in fact had not ever done anything that went beyond some small insults and cruelty, more fruit of pride and an a childish attitude, who had long since gone, than anything else. But he knew it would be as useless now, as it had been seven years ago. At least now, he knew enough to stay quiet and not provoke his tormentor.

The wand gently lifted his chin and lips brushed his. Tomas. It was very soft and tender, like a caress. Sometimes the guard could be horribly sweet. Draco felt nauseous. Lips against lips became bruising and hard. And then just a brush:

"I know I can´t touch you, because that bastard Dementor Lord will kill Henry if I do. – He whispered in his mouth. - But sooner or later he will tire of you, or you will get him angry enough. And when he withdraws his protection… I'll be there. Don´t forget it. – Started turning away from the trembling young. - The murderers always get their punishment."

Tomas, finally, turned his back on him, and walked away melting into the shadows of the hallway.

"This has been a reminder." - The faint sound of his voice in the distance, and faint disappearing steps, was the last thing Draco saw of him.

A couple of minutes passed with Draco so very still. His legs felt weak, and the dizziness had returned in full force. He managed to straighten through sheer willpower. He had to get out, had to return to the shelter of the store.

Felt like if he didn´t start walking, he would cease to function and would collapse like a sand castle.

Slowly, one step ahead of the other, the weak blonde started the way home.

There was only one thing keeping him whole, the memory of Potter.

The only thing, the only thing in his battered and almost completely demolished heart, that had not been corrupted in one way or another. Harry, who was so kind and pure ... the only entirely good thing left in his existence.  
-

Getting to the store had been pure agony. He was so cold ... the fear in his stomach coiled like a snake, trying to devour him from the inside. The memories were threatening to take over his mind and make him vomit.

But thoughts of those green eyes got him the strength to finally get to the door, and turn the knob.

"Hey! You had me worried. Where were you?"

The aurors voice filled Draco with relief, whose legs finally gave out. Quick seeker reflexes threw Harry forward like a panther. And the powerful embrace of the dark haired man closed around Draco a moment before hitting the ground.

"Sorry. – Draco murmured faintly against the fabric of his shirt. - Strength has failed me."

The Auror lifted him easily, as if he were a lady, leading him to "bed".

"It's okay. But you shouldn´t have left if you were feeling weak. Somebody could have seen you. Why did you leave?" – Harry was perplexed and worried at the little who seemed to be shaking. He was so cold! Carefully he embraced his thin body against his chest, wrapping Viely in the folds of his coat.

"I just wanted some fresh air."

"Next time, wait for me. I'll go with you. Merlin you are frozen." – Harry rested his chin on top of the hooded head and began to rub his back.

A sigh escaped Draco's lips. It was so nice. The heat of Harry was of a type that more than the body warmed the heart. It felt so good...

He looked up, at green worried looking eyes. _"For me?"_ He thought, and found himself smiling faintly. How could this knucklehead made him feel much better than his best friend?

It was really a mystery.

He looked more closely.

But maybe it was not so much so. That unbrushable hair soft as feathers, his strength, not just physical or magical, that indefinable magnetism that enveloped you like a security blanket. The incredible green eyes that you could sink in, the fleshy lips...

And then, it happened.

He didn´t even realize what he was doing until his lips brushed Harrys.

And then it was too late to stop.

The first contact of skin against skin.

He shivered, the feeling of thousands of butterfly wings caressing his nerves. A sigh escaped their lips.

A flash of magic enveloped them like static electricity.

And there was no turning back.

Harry's lips gently pushed Draco's, which opened up without any other gesture. Opening with the timidity of those who don´t quite know what to do. This was not like all those times he had been forced. This was a gesture chosen by himself, it was an offer not made to anyone before. And Harry knew to treat it as such.

His tongue slipped inside to caress the tip of his, urging him to play, to go after him. Draco laughed slightly tickled. How long was since he had laughed at all? He followed Harry's tongue into his mouth. They stroked each other, drinking the other's saliva.

Harry's hands curled around his waist and down his thighs, caressing, exploring through the fabric of his tunic. Attracting the Auror, Draco sighed in his hair, caressing the curve of his neck, fingers twisting in the impossible tangle of dark locks.

And all the time the magic seemed to pulse, getting stronger and more consistent. A perfect melody, an unparalleled symphony. A meeting of tongues and hands, and bodies that sought each other through the fabric.

Draco fell back on the stacked pallets, and Harry followed covering him with his body. Kissing like there was no tomorrow, and maybe even if neither of them knew it, there wasn´t.

Harry slid his hands under the fabric of his tunic, lifting and twisting it until it was around the waist of Viely, and could observe the perfection of his slender long legs, and the hair almost translucent, smooth as silk, covering the cavity between his thighs, in which rested his most precious treasure, now half filled with pleasure.

"You aren´t wearing underwear." - Whispered half perplexed, breathing deep and sensual.

"No ... I´m not." – Draco barely murmured, flushed with an addictive mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. Almost involuntarily parting his thighs.

Harry's hands caressed and curled around his waist, and Draco moaned at the touch of the auror on the sensitive skin. Harry smiled slightly.

Vielys delicate hands slid under his shirt caressing nipples that stood up on the spot. Harry impatiently pulled his shirt up and threw it into a corner, without worrying at all about where it fell.

His skin was tanned by the sun, golden and expanded on a torso as defined, large and athletic, that compared to his, made Draco's look just like a too pale layer of skin on thin bones like a birds. And felt ashamed that Harry could see it.

He squirmed slightly under the weight of the Auror. It was like being under a blanket beneath a too high spell of heat, and it was too little and too much at the same time, and he attracted the Auror screwing him with his legs and arms. His cock pressed against Harry's pelvis and his own hard member encased by the fabric of his pants. The moan that was torn from his lips was almost like a plea.

"I want to make you mine." - The hoarse voice of Harry, bursting with desire, paralyzed him for a moment.

He was afraid. Those words had never presaged anything good. But the magic around them was like a whisper urging him forward, and the green eyes were so full, so intense and brilliant ... Draco didn´t know of what. Or rather didn´t want to know. He wasn´t ready, yet, to admit something so big and intense, even though his heart seemed crazy on his chest, wanting to leave, and his breathing was so ragged, that, for a moment, he feared not being able to respond.

"Make me yours." - The words left his lips in a breath.

And that was all it took.

Harry wanted to take his robe but Draco didn´t let him, and Harry respected that desire, burying his face in the perfect curve of his lower belly, and taking off his own pants and black underwear.

Harry licked the delicate skin with the desire of those who are starving, going down with kisses and licks until he reaches his goal, and stroked the length of Vielys cock with his cheek, tender and sweet.

Draco watched breathlessly, letting out moan after moan of pleasure filled disbelief, and when the wet appendage started stroking his entrance, and preparing him with all the devotion of a worshiper who makes a prayer, he thought he would cry for the incredible tenderness of the gesture.

He was ready, wet, squirming, sighing with pleasure, and all, all he wanted, was to feel Harry inside him. He needed him so much...

The magic was making Draco crazy with the delicate whisper of his presence, made him feel like a big emptiness inside that needed to be filled, that only Harry could fill. And that, was driving him mad.

The Auror positioned over his body.

Biceps taut, wet hair, the sexiest, predatoriest look he had ever seen, hypnotized him like a snake, pinning him under it. And then Harry began pushing gently and steadily, penetrating, taking, possessing and filling him as he had not been before.

He supposed he should be afraid, or at least feel some distaste for an act which so far had only brought pain and humiliation. But the truth, the real truth, was that he was tearing inside from pleasure and love. Merlin! Harry had begun to move.

Powerful onslaught after onslaught. Touching his pleasure centre with each one, making him moan, scream, writhe desperately. Lifting his hips to meet him every time.

Harry seemed a God of bronze sweat beaded skin, that had decided to make Draco his own against any force that tried to stop him. His breath came in explosive puffs of air, his muscles contracted and flexed like a horse in a race. His eyes were fierce, wild like a green flame. As the Avada Kedavra, as lightning. His lips claimed Dracos in a passionate last act of possession, and both exploded in an incredible wave of savage pleasure, rising, growing and growing until the magic roared in their ears like a gale and echoed in their blood like a mermaid song, and Harry´s semen flooded his insides like liquid fire, before the darkness claimed them both.

Ron was frustrated, well, actually, a lot more than frustrated. Why had the bloody elves to be so stubborn? Let's see, all he wanted to know was who had been taking food from the kitchen, and they acted as if he were asking for the secret of eternal life!

All quiet, and down ears.

He made a resigned sigh.

Ron wasn´t going to torture them to extract information, it was cruel, and verisaterum wouldn´t work with no humans ... so yeah. The ginger auror was very frustrated.

He took another kick at the pebble he had found on the floor, a few aisles back. Supposedly he was looking for Malfoy, but by now he was beginning to think that the ferret had died and that the guards tried to cover it up somehow. The reason wasn´t clear, but he didn´t believe that Malfoy was the one who had dropped Fenrrir into Hermione.

Let's see, who in their right mind will set loose a hungry werewolf, with oneself as the closer prey? Unless you had a wand, which he knew Draco hadn´t. He had no reason to do it. Which meant that the guards wanted Hermione dead, so she couldn´t find out something. But what?

He took another kick to the pebble, and was about to repeat the move when he turned the corner of the next aisle.

"…What?"

Kneeling on the floor there was a woman covered by a worn grey dress. It was of simple worn out cut, she seemed a maid. An idea that was reinforced by the soapy water bucket beside her. In his hand she held a cloth which with she was rubbing the floor. Her dark hair was so short it barely brushed her jaw, and her skin looked pale as ash.

She seemed to hear the sound of surprise, and looked up.

"Pansy Parkinson?"

The brown owl of MacGonagal looked up from one of the tiny hangers in the owlery of Azkaban, a bundle tied to her leg.

Hermione walked over to pick it up, one of the elves had just informed her of the arrival, and immediately decided to go for it.

"Good, Archimedes. Are you hungry?" - Offered some sweets to the owl to eat, while she untied the package and returned it to its normal size with a quick spell.

MacGonagal had apparently sent another book, and there was a note attached to the brown paper wrapping.

_"Dear Hermione._

_I am sending this precious volume only because of the urgency of the work that you are doing, and with the full knowledge that you know how to care for it as it deserves. It´s a magical tome containing all the knowledge of the one who created it, that only shows to ones with a clean heart who really need it. I hope you find it helpful._

_Sincerely Minerva MacGonagal. "_

Hermione, dragged by curiosity, broke the wrapping paper.

_"My Journal" _And was signed; _"Godric Gryffindor"_

Her breath choked a moment.

"The Journal of Godric Gryffindor ..."  
**  
Continue.**


	11. Secrets

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Note: **So much thanks for your reviews. ^^

**TroMin: **This chapter is about the curse in fact ;) I hope you like it.

**Yueli: **I´m happy you like my fic. ^^ So here you have a new chapter, I hope you find it good. ;)

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 11 - Secrets.**

_Hermione, dragged by curiosity, broke the wrapping paper._

_"My Journal" __And was signed; __"Godric Gryffindor"_

_Her breath choked a moment._

_"The Journal of Godric Gryffindor ..."_

* * *

Waking up that morning was like rediscovering life. Every little detail glowed with a new quality and a powerful charm, that made him want to live as he hadn´t desired for years.

Perhaps along his existence in Azkaban, slowly and gradually, almost without realizing, he had been losing the will to fight, and the desire to move forward had been eroding to end in the simple, primordial survival craving, that has everything living. So much so, that in the end, life itself almost had ceased to matter.

But that night, somehow, being in the arms of Harry, feeling his warmth, his desire... all that he was, Draco had found something really worth living for. Someone who, even being cursed, and thrust into hell, even having lost all that he had, on many more levels than just the physical could cover, made him felt that in spite of everything, he could be happy. Harry, for a few hours, had made him feel real and truly happy. And that was something worth living for.

He turned on his back with a smile, without opening his eyes, and extended a hand hoping to find the warm body of the Auror, but his fingers only found blankets still warmth from his skin.

Perplexed, gray eyes opened slowly.

"Harry?" – His voice barely whispered, still half in the clutches of sleep. The blankets were empty. And his heart fell a bit, even as he looked around, but the Auror wasn´t in the room. Draco swallowed, trying to squash the worry. There were thousands of reasons for Harry to have to leave. No?

An angry little voice, which he recognized as his pride, started yelling that there was no reason good enough for his partner to go away, out of bed, the morning after their first night together. And Draco was starting to get angry, when his gaze fell in a folded sheet resting on the pillow.

He almost fell from over his haste to take it.  
Took a deep breath and smiled shakily, as he recognized the aurors handwriting.

_"To Viely"_ was written in his characteristic disorder with simple black ink, on a sheet of parchment so white; he must have conjured it especially for Draco. His finger ran over the paper gently, feeling warm and almost giddy with joy. And unfolded the note:

_"Viely, you can´t even imagine how many times I've rewritten this before getting a half decent attempt."_ – Draco smiled, imagining the Auror all frustrated with the sheet he was holding, and smiled.- _"Truth is that I started writing just to tell you that I had to go and continue with the investigation. I will return this afternoon. (You slept so soundly that I didn´t want to wake you.) But when picking up the feather I discovered a thousand things to say. So many that it all came over in an incomprehensible mess. Several attempts only brought the same result. Why it´s so difficult? In the end I decided it would be best to make it as simple as possible, otherwise I wouldn´t ever finish."-_ Draco knew Harry would have been smiling when writing this. - _"I love you."_ - Those two words made, for a moment, the world tilt. "Harry ... loves me." His heart jumped, his cheeks reddened. "Harry loves me." His breath quickened, his eyes widened. "Harry loves me!" Tears started rolling down his cheeks; Draco pressed the paper against his chest. "HARRY LOVES ME!" He doubled over and began to cry in earnest. Felt the almost irresistible urge to run after him, to tell Harry that he too ...

"I ... love him." His heart throbbed finally admitting what he had been trying to evade. "I'm in love. In love with Harry." His hand crept toward his mouth stifling the words.

"I love him." - Weak murmured, broken, words.

That changed everything. Harry hated lies. Merlin, he even asked the Sorting Hat to put him in Gryffindor, shunning slytherin! -"If he finds that I've been lying ... he would hate me. No, he hates me. If he learns about it, it will be much, much worse; he will not want to even look at me. Ever!" -Draco swallowed convulsively. What could he do? He couldn´t lose Harry! He couldn´t bear even thinking about it. Draco knew that if he saw once the spark of hate in those green eyes he loved so much, he would shatter.

Until now Draco had endured thanks to Blaise, Pansy, and his unwavering decision to go on. But now he had found Harry, and finally admitted his feelings, the warm auror had become the center of his world. If he leaved, if Harry departed from him, Draco wouldn´t be able to resist as before. He would break as a glass figure that hits the ground.

He had only one exit.

"I have ... I have to tell the truth."

* * *

The guardroom was empty except for her. Henry and Tomas were supposedly in their rooms. And Ron and Harry investigating.

The fireplace was the only source of light, orange flames that changed merrily the game of lights and shadows dancing on the book she held.

"The Journal of Godric Gryffindor."

Hermione stood sitting on her mattress in front of the fireplace. The thick book resting on her lap. Her mind pondering if she should or not, try to read it. Reading the diary of someone else, didn´t seem ethical. But then, perhaps, it contained the information she needed. And anyway MacGonagal had judged her worthy of the responsibility. Although still remained the issue of it not being hers. Her brow wrinkled determinedly.

_"Okay. Just read what you need and avoid anything that seems too personal." _In addition MacGonagal had said that only someone worthy could read it. If Griffindor put that spell, he probably already knew that his diary would be read. So actually invading his privacy wouldn´t be so wrong, right? Mione grabbed the tape and opened it before she got a chance at changing her mind.

"A blank page ..." - the paper yellowed by time was blank. There was nothing written. Or it hadn´t been until a moment ago. Elegant gold letters slowly began to creep in to the page, as written by an invisible hand.

"Good night, Miss Granger."

Mione got startled. That was too close to Voldemort's Horcrux diary.

"Ja, ja, ja. I'm Not a Horcrux. Merely a book with a lot more intelligence than most."

"Are you reading my mind?" – She didn´t know whether to feel outraged or fascinated by the complexity of the object.

"Only your surface thoughts. And before you ask any more questions, maybe you should think about the Sorting Hat and its intelligence. You didn´t believe that it was was the only sentient object Godric made, did you?"

Hermione thought for a moment. She sensed no dark magic in the object, and it was send by MacGonagal herself. So…

She nodded.

"All right. You are a very smart book."

"Created by Godric Gryffindor to protect his memories."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"You are a little cocky, right?"

"... Well. I don´t usually have many opportunities to talk to anyone."

Mione further raised her eyebrow.

"Okay, okay. Suppose you wanted to know something, right?"

The Auror nodded. What to ask first? She decided to start over with what had caught her attention in recent days. With the debt she owed.

"Could you tell me about the dementors? All the information I've found is incomplete. Any help would be appreciated."

The page remained blank for a moment.

"... You don´t make little demands, e? Alright, I see that your curiosity is sincere and that you harbor in your heart no more than good intentions. So I'll tell you."

Mione read stunned, as the missing story slowly unraveled before her. The story of the Dementors, the Dark Lord that led them, and how had been lost all knowledge of them.

"Early in the society of magicians, centuries before the birth of my creator, all the large culture of witches and wizards, was beginning to take the shape that would end up with. And with the popular election of the first leader, who later became known as the prime minister of magic, also emerged the first laws and rules, and the beginning of what would become the ministry.

Magic is a great power that requires great responsibility. The leader and his council knew that with no punishment to fear, there would be many wizards who would not hesitate to use this gift to commit monstrous crimes.

So he sought a punishment so terrible, so awful, it would prevent any such intentions.

Nobody really knows how it was created. But yes what finally emerged from that search.

The Dementor curse.

You might not know, but it was previously thought that the magic of a wizard went to another body when he died, and was reborn in a new shape. No memories or experiences, of course, but their magical essence. This was how the birth of muggleborns was explained. When there was no magical child waiting to be born, the magical essence sought other appropriate receptacle. So even if he died, a wizard would remain forever in an endless cycle of birth and death.

That´s why the Dementor's curse is a so terrible punishment.

This curse is the origin of the creatures known as Dementors. Reserved only for the darkest and corruptest criminals, for those whose essence had been so tainted that even rebirth wouldn´t clean it.

It's a curse that captures the essence of the wizard and literally melts it in your flesh. Makes from it a single entity incapable of dying. Forever trapped in a living hell. The body twists and corrupts reflecting what corrodes the spirit. You lose the ability to do magic, because it will no longer responds trapped in your own flesh. An aura of terror and horror surround you, making people shy away from you. See you as a monster. The panic is such that your words will only come as terrifying hisses, leaving the bearer forever alone. Accompanied only by those who are like him. Having to see them every day and remember, thanks to your own deformed appearance, the crimes committed. Knowing that you will never be free of it, because you cannot die.

This new creature ate only one thing, souls. Only when devouring one they felt alive again, accompanied, and the loneliness vanished briefly. They devoured happy memories to replace those they could never have. Extending the coldness of death in life all around them, the victims, in so terrible distress, finally losing their sanity.  
Ironically the only thing able to scare them was the physical form of these memories. The Patronus. Its purity caused them the anguish of recalling their own happy lost memories.

The leader and his council thought quite well. Not only were they punishing dark wizards, setting an example for all people. But they also had created the perfect guardian. A tireless fearsome creature, whose food could also be used as punishment. Your soul devoured by one of them. A punishment considered more desirable than becoming one of them. So your magical essence could escape untouched to find a new reincarnation.

They created a device that allowed the control of the creatures, and confined them to a single place in the world. Azkaban. From that instant, the island became the prison of the wizarding world, and his more frightening place.

Centuries later it was time for my creator, Godric Gryffindor. Godric was a very powerful wizard of great kindness. He had good friends, a wife who loved him and two children he cherished with his soul. Griever and Garta. Two guys who had the great magical potential and values of his father. Two young men who did fill Godric with pride.

But ...

The power in large measures can corrupt, and Garta and Griever had everything. Power, money, nobility, the admiration of all.

But Griever wanted more. He began to search in dark magic how to be even more powerful. With his alchemy and research developed a ritual that allowed him to absorb the magical essence of others. He killed his mother in the realization of this terrible dark ritual, almost succeeded in murdering his brother, and if he would have succeeded, Griever would have had the power to defeat his father, devour his magic, and become the most powerful dark wizard ever born. However Garta, even if he could not save his mother, and wounded almost to death, managed to reach and warn Godric.

Great was the pain of Gryffindor to know what monster had become his son. But even greater was his sense of duty. He found Griever, hiding in a dark nest that he had created in the bowels of what had been their home. Godric challenged Griever.

The battle was terrible. It opened the earth and made the heavens flash, it created enormous columns of raging fire, monstrous waves, rays that destroyed everything in their path. .. But finally Godric was the conqueror.

His sense of justice led him to take his son to the minister, so he could be fairly tried for his crimes.

Griever was sentenced to the Dementors curse.

His own father spoke the curse before the council of wizards. Although there were tears in his eyes, Godric's voice never wavered while weaving the fate of his son with his magic.

But even as a dementor Griever had such power that he was able to overcome the curse minimally. Retaining as unique human characteristic, his voice.

The ministry saw this as an even more effective way to handle the Dementors, thus having an interpreter capable of communicating with both sides. Soon the new monster took over the leadership of the terrible creatures. Who were among them more powerful, or darker than him?

Thus was born the Dementor Lord. The last of the Dementors.

After that Godric decided to end the use of the curse. Because despite everything, he still loved his son, and would have wanted for him to have a chance to reborn. Even if his soul were stained, he believed it could have been cleaned have it had a second chance. Opportunity none of the Dementors had had.

His reasoning, presented to the ministry, along with a long campaign that brought the magical world in his favor, besides the weight of his name, finally made the curse of the dementor be banned.

Any information on it removed.

The few texts that detailed it, belonging, of course, to the ministry, destroyed. It had been decided to make it disappear completely. Because who could claim that something so terrible could not end, one day, falling into the wrong hands?

That´s how with time, and the ban that prevented anyone from writing about it, all knowledge of its existence was forgotten. And the Dementors came to be seen as dark creatures themselves, without any human origin. "

Hermione didn´t know how to feel. She had just been presented with information that had been lost for centuries! But something suddenly came to her mind.

"So what´s a white dementor?"

"A white dementor is someone under the curse. Someone who is becoming one."

Mione had a terrible feeling.

"Does the curse need blood?"

"Yes. The blood of someone with a strong bond with the victim. A relative, or ...

"Or your best friend."

_"The white dementor is Malfoy."_

**It will continue.**


	12. Broken

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Note:**

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 12 - Broken.**

_"So what´s a white dementor?"_

_"A white dementor is someone under the curse. Someone who is becoming one."_

_Mione had a terrible feeling._

_"Does the curse need blood?"_

_"Yes. The blood of someone with a strong bond with the victim. A relative, or ..._

_"Or your best friend."_

_"The white dementor is Malfoy."_

* * *

The sensation of skin against skin still accompanied him, as he walked through the dark corridors, in the silent early hours of the morning.

Harry couldn´t stop reliving every moment of the night before. The madness of kisses, fingers sinking into soft like silk flesh, arms and legs tangled in old sheets, of breaths mingling, the smell of dust and sweat and sex.

But more than anything, brighter than anything else, he remembered the confidence, the shyness and tenderness with which Viely had given himself.

He had clung to him as if Harry was the only thing keeping him afloat. He had sought his lips with the shyness of a novice, given his body with the absolute faint of a madman ... or a lover.

And had managed what no one had achieved before. Shake Harry to his very bones.

It couldn´t be said that the Auror had had a poor sexual life.

When he could no longer endure the solitude of his bed, there was always someone willing to fill it for a night or less. Normally a visit to a nightclub was more than enough for the purpose. He never lacked offerings.

But since leaving Ginny almost five years ago, nobody had interested Harry again, not that way. And even his relationship with Ginny, had been a little more like filial love, than like something he might be expected to feel for a lover. Precisely that had been the reason for the end of their relationship. That it couldn´t work that way.

For a while he had looked for some else. Someone who might make him feel something more than a passing interest and desire. But all the people he had been with had been disappointing so far.

The vast majority did not bother to try to know him.

Almost everyone thought they knew everything they needed to know about Harry Potter, having painstakingly read through any newspaper article related to the boy who lived.

Many were only interested in his money, fame or appearance.

And the few who didn´t, seemed to want to pity him for having to bear a fate as hard as the one he had to, without any choice. These were the ones who most troubled him. Because if there was something that Harry didn´t need, was being cared for like a fragile and delicate creature.

If he had learned something from his hard life, was, precisely, to take care of himself and others. At the end of the day everyone had expected Harry to save them. And today a day, at work, they required the exactly same thing from auror Potter.

And he loved it.

Knowing that he was helping people, that there were less criminal in the world thanks to him, less pain and suffering for others, filled him. It made the auror feel good and useful. Gave meaning to his life.

And so far there had been little more than that to it. But it had been a vague happiness. Incomplete.

Harry could be able to die for one who needed it. But he had never felt the need to live for anyone.

Until last night.

When Viely had given himself to Harry, completely.

That creature so delicate and fragile, broken and almost completely shattered, had clung to him as if Harry were the only thing in the world keeping him whole.

As if he were the centre of his existence.

He had entrusted Harry his life, linking it to him with the most sensual and erotic experience he ever had.

And that strange feeling, that wild fire, that relentless need to protect, that had been dancing inside his breath since he first saw the white one on the roof, had crystallized into a single emotion that had turned his world upside down, shaking it like a titanic powerful earthquake.

He had fallen in love.

When the alarm rang, telling him he should go to work, Harry had needed every ounce of his will to depart, as silently as a shadow, from the warm softness of his body. He had wanted to stay, confess his feelings, hug Viely and repeat the incredible experience of last night, never to be separated again. But he couldn´t ignore his responsibilities. Not when there was so much at stake. And Viely would be safe in the store.

So he had written a note.

A few lines that were repeated over and over again, until he had no time left, and finally had to write a note as simple as possible, reserving his feelings for when he returned to his side in the afternoon.

He couldn´t wait.

* * *

Pansy blinked for a moment, not quite sure of what she was seeing:

"Wesley?"

The slightly raspy voice of Parkinson brought Ron down from his surprise.

The red head took out his wand, pointing it menacingly at the woman kneeling on the floor, soapy rag in hand.

"May I know what are you doing outside your cell?" – He still wasn´t sure how was he supposed to act. Should he stop, and let the questioning for later?

"...Cleaning?" – Pansy lifted the cloth in a mocking gesture of doubt. Ron blushed like a teenager.

"That's not what I meant!" - In his quest to not look stupid he didn´t notice the shadow creeping at his back.

"Sorry kid, but it´s necessary."-A grave voice.

Ron turned how fast he could.

"What…?"

"Imperius."

Not fast enough.

* * *

_"The white dementor is Malfoy."_

Hermione massaged her temples and sighed. The multiple implications of what she had discovered were forming in her mind an increasingly macabre map. Something that if she studied thoroughly enough, she was sure, would give her the identity of the culprit.

"But first I need some coffee."

She was already almost two days without sleep, and was starting to feel the ravages of sleep deprivation. But even if she knew she should get some shut eye time. She also knew it would be a futile try. She will not be able to sleep, not with all that information still hovering inside her skull hunting for answers.

So Hermione got up and poured herself a cup of coffee from the thermos that were on the table. Sat by the fire with her hot cup, cradling it in his hands, and occasionally sipping its contents while she waited for everything to make some sense.

The sound of the door opening made her look back to see who it was.

"Good morning, Harry." - The black haired Auror seemed jubilant. Happy as she had not seen him in years. She sighed, Hermione hated having to crush his good mood, but Harry had to know what they were dealing with. For a moment she wondered what could have caused the incredible smile on his lips, but most pressing concerns pushed the issue to the background of her mind.

"Good morning Hermione. You look exhausted. Are you okay?"

His friend had her wild hair escaping right and left from the battered ponytail, dark circles under the worried gaze and wrinkled clothes. None of which was normal in her.

Harry poured himself a cup of coffee and sipped at it, looking worriedly at Mione over the rim of the mug.

"No, I guess I´m not. I haven´t slept in two days." – She waved his hand dismissively, and took another sip of her own cup, before dropping the bomb- "I have discovered what had been of Malfoy."

Immediately the atmosphere thickened in advance.

Harry sat on the mattress across the one Hermione occupied. Auror instincts alert. It seemed that, at last, they were going to progress in this mad research.

Mione took the diary from her bag and put it in his hands. The worn red skin was soft to the touch, the gold lettering clearly visible.

"The Diary of Godric Gryffindor?" – Harry looked at his friend questioningly.

"Yes. MacGonagal sent it yesterday. It contains valuable information ... about the Dementors." –

Harry frowned, puzzled.

"What has Malfoy to do with the Dementors?"

"Unfortunately, enough." - Carefully she put the cup on the floor. Suddenly she wasn´t thirsty anymore. – "The white dementor you told me about, remember?"

Harrys nod was almost imperceptible.

"Yes, I remember." - _"Yes, I remember the feel of his skin and the taste of his lips. The tenderness of his gestures, and the perfect expanse of his belly."_

"The white dementor is Malfoy."

For a moment he couldn´t catch his breath.

"Are you sure?" - At a basic and quite distant level, he knew his voice had sounded pretty quiet, and wondered how that could be even possible.

"Unfortunately, yes."

The following words of Hermione, explaining how she had learned the story of the Dementors, the implications of all this ... were like ice being poured into his stomach, accompanied by nails and fragments of broken glass. Luckily the chill left him insensitive to it. There was no pain, that would come later.

He felt numb, disconnected. He, still, could not assimilate what he was hearing.

Harry raised his hand to silence his friend.

"Hermione, stop." -His voice monotonous.

"Harry?" – He looked pale. Suddenly his best friends gaze, send cold chills down her back.

"I have to go." –Harry´s voice sounded dead, and he didn´t even look at her, as he rose and went to the door.

Hermione opened her mouth to ask ... but closed it without saying anything. There was something about the dark haired man that called to let him go, a thinly veiled warning.

When finally the door closed behind him, the soft thud reminded her of a coffin lid being closed.

_"What has just happened?" _

* * *

He was sitting on the pile of mattresses that served as his bed still scrambled by the passionate sex of last night. Looking towards the door, half hoping, half dreading the arrival of Harry.

Draco was terrified.

He had looked at all possible ways of telling the truth, and every one of them sounded horrible.

"Yes, of course it's going to sound horrible. I've been lying for weeks. How else could it sound?" –He thought sardonically, trying to give himself courage. – "But Harry has a good heart, surely, surely, if I explain he'll understand."

Harry was the epitome of the light by definition, right? He refused to think of any other outcome. If he did, he would not be able to speak.

Draco took the note from his pocket and read it again, eagerly. He had already lost count of how many times he had done this, memorizing the words, savouring them in his lips.

"I wish you were already here." - Sighed and refolded the note, putting the paper again in his pocket.

Suddenly, as called by his words, the door opened with a rusty groan and Harry appeared in the frame.

"Harry!" – He couldn´t help the little scream, half joy, half surprise, that escaped his throat. Draco got up quickly, and took a couple of steps toward the auror.

But almost instantly a feeling that something was wrong shook his thin frame.

He paused.

The Auror wasn´t responding, he couldn´t see his face in the dark of the hallway. Didn´t know what was happening, but something was terribly wrong.

"Harry?" - The question sounded pathetically weak even to his ears.

Finally the black haired man entered a few steps inside the store, enough so the light of the torches touched his face. An impassive mask of cold, the only alive thing in it, the green embers of his eyes that seemed to burn with a frosted flame.

"Viely." - The voice was sweet, kind, a moment later, a smile on his lips, and just a second later his arms outstretched to receive him, as if the brief image of statue had only been a momentary illusion.

Draco threw himself into the embrace. He didn´t want to see the tension in his muscles, the slight tightness of the smile, the almost invisible flame still hidden deep in the green. At that moment he just wanted to erase the chilling image from his mind.

He pressed his body to the broad chest, inhaling the pleasant smell of skin, soap and the shampoo with which the auror had showered that morning. Looking for the warmth and comfort that Harry always seemed to offer with his mere presence. But ... he felt cold.

"Harry?" - Looked up.

His hands, that had been ascending from Draco´s back to stroke his neck through the fabric of the hood... pulled.

The fabric slid of his head without resistance, and fell to his back. White blond hair brushed his so very thin shoulders.

"Malfoy."

Harry didn´t know what he had been expecting. A part of him still did not quite believe that the small dementor was Draco Malfoy. The ice layer around his heart was starting to break, and the pain under the shock was beginning to leak out.

Draco felt his heart would stop here and now, but mysteriously it continued beating.

For a moment everything seemed frozen, static, in a second of growing horror, until the silence stretched so much the air itself seemed a breath from breaking.

"You've been lying to me." - The harsh words broke the spell of immobility, and the world started turning again at breakneck speed. This couldn´t be happening.

The mask was back and this time the icy flame in Harris eyes could rival the Avada Kedavra.

Draco felt his heart gave a lurch and his breathing hitch.

"Did you think you could use me to escape Azkaban?" - The cold, calm question, was even more terrifying than if it had been shouted.

"I ... I just ... "– his heart gave another lurch, and Draco had to hug himself to avoid bending in pain.

Harry's hand closed around his jaw forcing him to hold his gaze.

"Answer me!"

The green eyes were poisoning. His heart tore a little, and Draco tightened the grip around his ribs, trying to keep it whole. Held the horrible stare as best he could, but it was like being forced to swallow cyanide.

"I just wanted out. - His voice cracked so very delicately. – You don´t know how it´s to live here, this place is hell, Harry ..." -pleaded with his eyes. The increased pressure in his jaw shut him painfully.

This time the words were a dangerous hiss.

"Do not ever call me by my name Malfoy, you and I have never been friends."

Draco nodded weakly, eyes glassy with tears he dared not pour. His heart was breaking under his fingers.

"You're a Death Eater, a slag, and you deserve to rot in a cell for all the damage you have done to others."

_"Hatred is green."_ The blond thought. Saw it in the cold glow of Harris eyes. His legs buckled and he did not understand how it was that he was still conscious, despite the unbearable and horrible pain in his chest. He could well envision the bleeding and torn edges of the hole where his heart should have been, a space now occupied by a few patches of battered and barely alive membrane.

"I ... I´m innocent." - Just whispered, tearfully.

"Do not make me laugh." - The voice impassive, frozen, authoritarian.

Draco had not even realized when the auror had took it out, but now he could feel the tip of the wand pressing at his throat.

"Walk."

"…Where?" – It was like dying inside.

"To your cell."

Tears rolled down his ashen cheeks.

The path to his former cell was a nightmare of grief. Harry's presence behind him, the carnage in his chest, tears in his eyes, the sound of their footsteps on the cold stone floor.

The small and depressing space had not changed at all. The door opened like welcoming Draco, and Harry had to give him a little push to make him take the final step. He fell to his knees, his legs finally giving in to the desire to collapse. His hands closed around the bars.

Harry had already turned away, but...

_"Surely ... surely this is the last time I will see him."_ The words were stuck in his throat, wanting out. _"If this will be the last time ... then, then ..."_

"I love you." - The little voice, sad, broken, lost, made Harry stop for a moment.

"Harry ... I ... I'm in love with you."

"I told you not to call me by my name." - That was the only answer. He did not even turn and look at him, just left.

_"It's so cold."_

And then, darkness.

**It will continue. **


	13. Vertigo

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Note: **In the end, Harry loves Draco so very much. ^^ Um… review, please? (insert puppy like eyes)

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 13 – Vertigo**

_Harry had already turned away, but..._

_"Surely ... surely this is the last time I will see him."__ The words were stuck in his throat, wanting out. __"If this will be the last time ... then, then ..."_

_"I love you." - The little voice, sad, broken, lost, made Harry stop for a moment._

_"Harry ... I ... I'm in love with you."_

_"I told you not to call me by my name." - That was the only answer. He did not even turn and look at him, just left._

_"It's so cold."_

_And then, darkness._

* * *

He felt cold.

Not something uncommon in Azkaban´s environment, where the temperature was so low, but... this felt like so much more than that; An unpleasant feeling in his gut that turned blue his lips, a chill inside his very bones… as if Hermione, with her words, had made him swallow liquid nitrogen, sip by sip, until he couldn´t take a drop more.

Everything inside had turned cold and hard. Unfeeling. His lungs, his stomach... his heart. Specially his heart.

He couldn´t feel anything.

Since leaving the guards room nothing had seemed able to pierce the ice that surrounded him. Only seeing Draco's face had penetrated, for a moment, the cold surface, and the pain had been like being gouged with a knife. Immediately, anger had emerged as an instinctive reaction, and the gap in the frozen wall had been covered by the icy flame of hate.

After that, the utter contempt lined barrier had been the only real thing. Everything else seemed too distant, inconsistent, and utterly unable to touch him.  
At some point, Harry had the notion of thinking he didn´t want to return to the guards room, and, instead had somehow ended up here, in the tiny Owlery of Azkaban.

A small round room, lined by a couple of shabby windows, from which the poor light of the cloudy day, filtered, and touched the dirty and covered with straw floor. In the dozen old and rusty hangers stuck to the walls, the owls stared at him with wide eyes; Hedwigh, Archimedes, and a couple more, one of which seemed as old and sickly as the room itself.

His white friend glared at him, leaving clear what she thought of the depressing space. Hedwigh hated living in places as dirty and small as this, and Harry knew it well.

"I'm so sorry Hedwigh, but you'll have to wait a little longer." – The auror muttered, leaning against the door. So very bone tired…

Everything here looked quiet, old, sad... like Draco.

"What ... has just happened?" – Harry felt his body sliding down the wood of the gate, until he found himself was sitting on the floor. It was like he had been sleepwalking, and was now waking up… His body felt heavy, his mind sluggish, his hands trembled sprawled in the floor.

Slowly, what had happened was really beginning to enter his awareness. The ice produced by the shock, starting to melt.

A pang of pain blossomed in his chest, shaking all his body, like being struck. And Harry folded up his legs, embracing them with his arms, so he could rest his forehead on them. Protecting himself, however he could, from every new lacerating memory that was cropping up, one after another inside his mind.

Hermione's voice ...

_"The dementor's curse is the origin of the Dementors."_

_"... Reserved only for the darkest and most corrupt criminals..."  
_  
_"... Forever trapped in a living hell ..."_

_"The white dementor is Malfoy."_  
"It can´t be."

The auror hugged his knees tighter, fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs. Blood trickled from the corner of his lip, where he had bitten to avoid giving voice to the agony. His heart pounded in a mad suicide race, every beat becoming a new lash of agony. The ice melting faster and faster, his freezing protection falling apart, forcing him to remember.

_"The white fabric of the hood slipping, falling, releasing hair as bright as silver. Light eyes, surrounded by delicate, mauve, dark circles. So large, so sad…"_

"Malfoy."

The feeling of having been used.

He made a strangled sound of pain.

The notion of having been deceived.

He shivered as if he had been trampled.

The instant when he finally reached the realization that it was all a lie, that ... that every word, every gesture, every kiss, probably only had been just a way to escape devised by Malfoy... that the blond actually... didn´t love him...

Tears began to escape from between his lashes, trails that burned like acid.

But there had been more. Where it not? The memories seemed somewhat hazy.

_"I just wanted out. - His voice broken – You don´t know how's life here. This place is hell, Harry ...-the pleading in his eyes ..."  
_  
_"... I´m innocent. - The words barely perceivable through his tears."  
_  
_The voice broken, sad, shattered, lost…: 'Harry ... I'm in love with you."  
_  
He cursed silently. Cursed because in spite of everything, he, still, desperately wanted to believe in those words.

Cursed his stupidity for falling in love with Malfoy of people, cursed himself for not being able to forget that night, for wanting Draco still, because even after all the shit, deep down, he wanted to believe that the person he had met, the person he loved beyond logical reason, had to exist. Harry wished there was a way to keep the blond ... An idea flashed through his mind. Poorly defined, more a desperate desire than anything else. But the more he thought about it, the further it attracted him. He knew it was crazy. But when some craziness had ever stopped him before?

A sad little smile appeared on his lips.

"I should be used to fate wanting to fuck me. - thought half ironically. - But for once in my life, I have the right to want something just for me." Harry broke the embrace on his knees, and took a deep calming breath. - "Draco Malfoy may not be exactly the best person in the world, but apparently he **is** the only one able to make me feel alive. And damn if I'm going to give it up!" -The brightness returned to the green gaze, with the same brilliant and powerful presence of lightning.

Looking up he realized that Hedwigh has descended beside him, looking at her master worriedly. The auror stroked the soft feathers of her head.

"I'm fine girl, you do not have to worry about me."- Not anymore.

Harry stood up, and wiped the blood from his lips with a hand wave and a whisper of magic.

_"You don´t know what´s coming for you Malfoy."_

With a wave of his wild red coat, the Auror left the room.

* * *

(Hermione)

After Harry was gone, she had been left with a very uneasy feeling. And for a while had debated whether she should try and go talk to him, but finally decided waiting was the best option. Give it a few minutes for Harry to calm down, before trying to tackle the issue. But… at some point in those minutes, the sleep she had been previously awaiting, had come unexpected, and caught her, finally making Hermione take the much needed nap. Her body half lying on the pallet, thrown on the floor.

The sound of the door closing woke her.

"... Harry?" - The exhaustion had turned her arms and legs to butter. Mione yawned, and had to make a real effort of will to just sit in the mattress and look at her friend.

Harry had just entered the room, all heavy steps, wildly disheveled hair and firm set jaw. The state of his clothes, just as hers, was a poor cross between wrinkled and sleeped in, that seemed to say neither of them had had a good day. Even if his auror coat looked even worse, invaded as it was by straw.

But the look, rather than make him into some dirty and shabby man, gave him an indefinable aura of unpredictable danger.

But what really finished waking her, was the determination printed on his face. The green glow of her friend's eyes was infused by a new intensity, a ravenous flame, that seemed shaded by a sense of pride she hadn´t watched since the end of the war.

"Did something happen?" - Was the first thing that came to her lips.

Harry offered his hand helping Hermione to her feet.  
"Only that I caught Malfoy. He´s in his cell." - The tone was cold, and not quite indifferent. A deception attempt. But Mione knew him too well for it to deceive her. Something, something very intense had happened to his best friend. And it made her frown. Because… what had it to do with Malfoy?

"That's good, we can interrogate him and get the case over with. But Harry ... you're hiding something. What happened to you? You look ... you ... – Mione sought the right words without finding them. - Well, you don´t look yourself.

"There´s nothing to worry about. Let me take my own decisions, -Hermione frowned- just… don´t pry okay? – The male auror looked at her defiant. There was something he wanted with a desire so intense, with a longing so great, that if he had to fight to get it, he would do it against anyone, even his friends. Although he hoped to make them understand, before something like that was necessary.

Just, not now.

Hermione saw something in her best friend… She didn´t know what exactly, but the message was pretty clear: _Leave me be. _She sighed, and decided not to press for now, they had a prisoner to deal with first. But when they were finished, it would be time to talk with her best friend, know what had happened to him, and decide if he needed help, or no.

But not now, they had priorities to attend to.  
"All right. – She resigned herself for now-but take care, okay?"

Harry smiled his typical big not quite bright, smile.

"Don´t worry. - _"I've already taken all the damage I could_." - ... What are you doing?"

Hermione finished revolving in her backpack and pulled out a small glass bottle, filled with a very translucent liquid, like water.

Verisaterum.

"You said Malfoy´s caught, No? Let's finish this already." - Hands on hips, hair in all directions, she looked like a real lioness hunting for prey.

_"Gryffindor through and thrown, e?"_

He couldn´t help smiling.

"Come then."

* * *

The prisoners in this section seemed more scared than usual.

Those who still had some remnant of will, had sought refuge in the far corners of their cells, as far away from the bars as they could. Like trying to hide from someone, or something.

"I don´t like this." – Harry said in a low whisper. Raising his wand defensively, while still advancing shoulder to shoulder with his friend.

"Me neither." - Hermione muttered. There was an unnatural chill in the air, an oppressive feeling, a darkness too deep lurking in the shadows. What had caused this?

"The Dementor Lord."-Harry hissed.

"What…?"

"The Dementor Lord. He has been here. Don´t you feel it? The wrongness? The weight in the air, the cold, the lack of light? This is what he causes wherever he goes."- Latent hatred lacing his voice.

Hermione wondered why Harry seemed to have so much animosity against the Lord, but didn´t ask.  
"So he´s here?" - She was curious to see the creature the traitor son of Godric Gryffindor had twisted into. But maybe not so much as to actually seek him.

"No. I don´t think he´s near. The effect seems to be fading; it doesn't feel half as strong as it should, had he been in the vicinity." - The Dementor Lord here, so close to Malfoy's cell ... What had the monster been looking for? Harry remembered all too well the golden needles, the cuts, the bruises. Cries, wounds, blood, tears… His blood felt like molten lava. He couldn´t define the exact feeling? Hate? Fear? Jealousy?

_"Maybe a little of all three. What I do know, is that if he has touched Malfoy, he´s going to want being able to die."_ – The dialogue emerging as a furious internal parssel hiss.

The closer they came to Draco´s cell, the worst the state of the prisoners was. Just a few meters from the place, their reaction had gotten so bad, that more than one had pissed himself in terror.

The two aurors moved like silent shadows, carefully examining their surroundings, spells on their lips, muscles tense in anticipation. Looked at each end of the hall, but there wasn´t a trace of the dark lord. After ascertaining that there was no danger, finally they arrived at the cubicle...

The door was open, and the tiny sad space, empty.

Harry felt something squeeze his heart.

"Harry look at this." - On the stone floor, just a few scattered drops of blood gleamed in the dark. – "Were he hurt when you brought him in?" - The blood seemed fresh, just starting to blacken in the dryness of coagulation.  
Harry delayed one moment, needing the time to actually take a breath.  
"No, he was fine." – He couldn´t remember exactly how Draco was brought here, but had the notion of not having touched him. It seemed impossible that he had resorted to physical violence, against someone for whom he felt something so strong.

Which meant that, either the blood was from someone else, (something very unlikely) or someone had hurt Draco. He remembered the last time he had seen blood in Draco. Needles... The ground seemed to vibrate for a second.

"Harry?"- Hermione looked at him bewildered. It had been years since she saw Harry lose control like that, on his magic.

"Hermione ..." - hissed through clenched teeth.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching cut the moment, with the knowledge that someone was advancing towards them. Immediately the two aurors took in a combat stance, just as a slight figure cut out from the shadows.

The torches lit Pansy´s black hair, her worn and dirty gray dress, her pale, panicked, determined face. Parkinson moved against the wall, clutching at the stone in search of something to sustain her from falling to the floor, limping, exhausted, but not giving up. As if her life depended on it.  
She staggered at seeing them, strength failing her frail looking body, and finally collapsed just feet's from the aurors.

They approached carefully, alert to any trick.

"Parkinson? Pansy Parkinson? - Hermione hadn´t even been aware, of the presence of the other woman in Azkaban. She didn´t think her school fellow would have been sentenced so harshly, even if she knew Parkinson was marked.

"Granger ..." – The woman seemed about to fall unconscious. Both Aurors recognized the effects of a prolonged cruciatus. Muscle contractions, ashen pallor, and unfocused gaze. Her short black hair didn´t really disguise, the swelling that was taking place on her forehead.

It was amazing that she was still conscious. Pansy´s eyelids fluttered spasmodically, she should have been knocked out, but seemed to be staying awake by pure strength of will, totally desperate to say something. But she didn´t have enough breath.

"Calm down, take some air." - Hermione said kindly.

"You ... have ... to ... help ... help him."- Coughed. Little, calloused hands gripped the blouse of Mione, trying to stay awake, to take her as an anchor.

"Who needs help?" - Asked Harry, hurriedly. He had a very bad feeling, that grew second to second.

"D ... Draco. Tomas has ... taken. Pl ... Please." – Pansy´s voice broke in a sharp note of urgency, supplication. The Auror realized she was about to lose it.

"Where?" - Asked immediately. Parkinson seemed unable to hear, or powerless to speak. – "Where has Tomas, taken him?" – Harry crouched in front of the hurt woman, forcing her to look at him. -"Answer dammit!"

"A ... to ... - closed her eyelids finally - to ... his ... room. - Muttered. Her body went limp, half collapsed over Hermione though still barely conscious.

"Kreacher!" - The old elf appeared instantly at the invocation of his master. – "Take her to the guard´s room; watch her, care for her, and don´t leave her side regardless of anyone else trying to make you go." - Harry didn´t wait to see his orders fulfilled. Hermione stood with him.

No doubt in them about who had been responsible for the curse thrown at Parkinson. Neither came to hear the last words of Pansy.

"Ron ... you ... need ... care ... cr ... R.. N ..."

* * *

The room was tiny. It barely contained a few old painted furniture pieces; A closet, a table in a corner, a chair, and the bed.

Everything else was bare stone walls without windows, and some photos here and there, that talked about the days when he had a family, and a future.

But the cheerful man who was in them had long since died, overcome by anger, rage and hatred. Now what was left of him, lived to take revenge. Only when in the middle of punishing the one he saw as culprit, he felt alive, in a perverse, dark, yes, but intense way. It was what he wanted. He didn´t need anything else.

But tonight was the last time Tomas would be able to indulge in the sweet sensation. The Dementor Lord had made it clear:

_"I'll give him to you, just for tonight. Break him, shatter him, make sure he loses all hope. But remember; he belongs to me."_

The guard knew the dark Lord hated sharing. This prize was probably only a punishment for Malfoy, and nothing else. But Thomas would seize every moment of it.  
He went to the bed.

Draco hadn´t yet ceased to sob.

Harry´s rejection had hurt more than anything he had ever experienced. The torture, rape... nothing had ever hurt as much as this. It was as if someone had ripped out his heart and soul, and left the shell, broken and bleeding of his body, to be habited by a sad and wrecked conscience.

The hatred Draco had seen in those green eyes, had broken him inside. And he no longer had the strength to do nothing but cry.

Every drop that slid down his cheeks was a drop of blood in his heart. A little reminder of what was lost. A small demonstration that he was, still, alive. While he breathed, he could never forget Harry, while some life remained in him, he could never stop loving the auror. So while he continued in this world, he could never stop mourning what was lost.  
He didn´t even resist when the Dementor Lord offered him to Tomas and had been driven into his arms, limp as a doll. Only the tears had shown he was still conscious.  
When they reached the guard room, and Tomas placed him on the bed to undress his trembling body, he accepted it, sobbing.

Now he knew for sure that he was never going to get out of this hell.

Harry had become the center of his world, and at leaving had left him with nothing to hold into. All that was left of Draco´s will, had collapsed at his words:

_"You're a Death Eater, a scum, and you deserve to rot in a cell for all the damage you have done to others."_

For seven years he had sustained his strength in his innocence. He had not killed anyone, had not participated in the war. Was innocent! But he really was? Could someone who was hated so deeply by him, really be innocent? He did not know.

Perhaps the mere fact that he accepted the Dark Mark, made him guilty. His father had been a monster, and he had known, but had not said anything. How much could have been saved if he had spoken? Perhaps he had not killed anyone directly, but had let dozens be slaughtered by Lucius without lifting a finger.  
He felt disgusted with himself.  
For the first time, he felt he deserved all this pain.

Draco closed his eyes as more tears slid from them, and ended soaking the pillow on either side of his face.

Suddenly Tomas mouth took his, square teeth nibbling at his lower lip. When it became obvious the blond would not resist the assault, a tongue slid inside, looking for the wet cavity of Draco's mouth.  
Inert, he let his saliva mix with the guards. Every touch reminded him of Harry, of his kisses, that were not at all like this, the auror lips were warm and sensual, and made him feel loved and wanted. All the opposite of the freezing cold, that was causing Tomas. He felt used, disgusted, nauseated, and the worst was that he felt he deserved it.

It hurt.

His soul hurt.

Frustrated by his passivity and lack of response, Tomas twisted one pink nipple between his fingers, but it was like trying to breathe life into a porcelain statue. Draco seemed frozen.

The only sign that his soul was still there, were the tears that hadn´t ceased to drip.

"It seems that, in the end, we managed to break you? E?" - The fetid breath in his ear was painful only because it came accompanied by the memory of a deep, warm voice, full of passion.

The guard smiled.

"It seems is time to completely break you. Don´t you think? - The sound of a zipper being opened… Draco closed his eyes, unable to take it.

_"Harry."_ He dared not ask for help, not even in his thoughts.

Calloused hands on his thighs, separating them, a positioning body over his, an unwanted weight on him, crushing him, sinking him into the mattress.

"That's it Malfoy, take it, you know you deserve this." - Tomas's voice leaked lust and venom.

He sobbed weakly.

Draco felt Toma´s cock touch his entrance and wanted to die here and now. He couldn´t take this, he couldn´t. Not after experiencing what was making love. He was going to break…

"Harry ..."- He sobbed.

The guard's fingers dug into his hips holding him in place...

And the world exploded.

The ground shuddered as if shaken by an earthquake, the cabinet fell and splintered on the floor, the table and chair were crushed by an invisible force. The photos shattered. A wave of murderous magic swept the room; crushing, slashing, destroying everything. And the bed seemed to be the eye of the hurricane. The sheets flapped in chaos like wild beasts.  
He heard Tomas scream, as his weight was suddenly and brutally ripped off him.

Draco opened his eyes.

A god with avada like eyes had entered the room. A God who had claimed his soul and heart.

Harry.

The magic surrounded him, obeyed him, came from him. Flamed in his wild black hair, undulated in his blood red coat, and reflected in the murderous glow of his eyes. His power was immense, oppressive, savage.

Harry was powerful enough to take the very air from his lungs.

Draco felt his heart stutter.

Harry had taken Tomas by the throat, suspending him in the air as if the guard weighed nothing. Squeezing his neck, as he watched with great satisfaction, how the guard struggled to breathe. Potter looked like a vengeful deity just taking payment for crimes committed.

Draco could not help the little, desperate, sound, that escaped his lips. Like a plea, like a pray.

"Harry…"- He needed ... it was so ... so painful to be hated by him ...

Harry glanced at him, alerted by his voice.

Tomas's body slipped from his hand onto the floor. And before Draco could realize what was happening, his lips were being taken, his body trapped under a much more loved one. The magic roaring around them like a victorious shout.

_"Harry ... I love you."_

**Continue.**


	14. Tears

**Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. My pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.**

**Warning:** This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.

**Summary:** When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

**Note: **In the end, Harry loves Draco so very much. ^^

I know I have been very late in writing this cap, and I´m sorry, hope I´m not so late for the next.

**Dementor Kiss**

**Chapter 14 - Tears.**

_Draco could not help the little, desperate, sound, that escaped his lips. Like a plea, like a pray._

_"Harry…"- He needed ... it was so ... so painful to be hated by him ..._

_Harry glanced at him, alerted by his voice._

_Tomas's body slipped from his hand onto the floor. And before Draco could realize what was happening, his lips were being taken, his body trapped under a much more loved one. The magic roaring around them like a victorious shout._

_"Harry ... I love you."_

* * *

Harry covered Draco with his body, devouring his mouth; licking every corner, stroking tongue against tongue. Calming and seducing, urging the submission of his blond counterpart.  
Needing, wanting, to own, brand, the slytherin as his. Make his mind forget the world itself, become his only desire, erase all signs of Tomas from the pale skin and cunning mind, until the only thing left to feel was Harry itself.

Draco moaned and sobbed beneath him, his body loose and fallen into the mattress as if he didn´t have strength left to move; the pliant softness of one falling in shock.

Harry didn´t notice.  
At the time his mind was a chaotic swirl overcome by the yearning of his magic, pulling at him with the force of a hurricane, and the primal need of protecting and possessing what was so much loved.

The auror felt his magic search for that of Draco´s. Attempt to caress it, like he would have attempted to caress a lover. Just with more calling and tries to make the other respond. But Draco´s magic was like mist, shy and elusive, impossible to attain. The total counterpart of his host, that shivered in Harrys embrace and parted his thighs to allow the fall of the griffindors hips between them, until their bodies melted one against the other; Chest to chest, hips to hips, in a long sensual touch that ripped twin guttural moans from their throats.

And it was at that perfect instant, in a second like a flash, when the auror recalled one of the first lessons from auror training; The magic of a wizard speaks of him more sincerely than any word. The magic of a wizard soaks in his soul, and takes on, the characteristics of the one to whom it belongs.

That´s why the magical signature of each witch and wizard is different from any other. That´s what makes their magic part of their very essence.

With the notion, other thought managed to cross his mind, entering the heart of the storm that surrounded them like a stray bird that´s lost in too much wind. - _"If I come into contact with Dracos magic, I would know for sure how much of Viely is real. How far I can trust my feelings. And maybe ..."-_ Maybe discern if Draco felt the same.

Suddenly, his desire and the one his magic had been feeding his senses, converged into a perfect, focused, intent; Reaching Draco, touching the foundation of his magical essence.

His own wild magic began to calm and flam in a different way. Stopped sweeping the room, and began to float as a barrier that separated the world from them. Just as the auror began kissing the curve of the moon pale collar, and felt the shudder of pure pleasure that ran through Draco in a delicate tremor. When he drawled his magic to surround his will be lover, like a warm blanket and shield. Wrapping, cuddling, soothing, urging the surrender, and asking for submission.

Draco sighed in pleasure, felling protected, warm, the cold a little less biting with Harry's magic as cover. Little by little he began to drift in the sensation…. when suddenly the "blanket" pressed gently, trying to get in touch with what wasn´t his to have.

The second Draco felt what the auror was trying to do ... one broken surprised sob escaped his throat. _"No way... Harry wouldn´t do that to me. Him ..."  
_  
His eyes searched for green ones through tears not yet dry, unable to comprehend what the man he loved was trying to do. But when Harry looked at him unfazed, possessed by the desire to make contact...

"No!" - He twisted, desperately trying to flee from the tight wrapping of arms around his body, trapping him against the broad chest of Potter.

"Shhh"- Draco felt Harry whisper against his hair- "Just want to touch you." – A kiss was tenderly deposited in his temple. – "It will only be a moment, I will not hurt you. I promise"

The promise only managed to make him feel betrayed.

"No, no. Nonononono ... Harry ... enough…stop" - Shaking like a leaf with his face against the soft coat, tears began to wet the crimson cloth as he tried to make the auror understand how terrified he felt. How not being able to stop him was making his heart leap in panic.

Because even if Draco loved him. Loved him so much that if the auror had asked for his body, he wouldn´t have, couldn´t have, cared, to give in to him. Even knowing he wasn´t loved back. If Harry had asked for Draco to be his…bitch. - The thought felt like dirt. – He would have taken it. He could have done it and be happy about having that much of Harry. Wouldn´t have been the first time he was used that same way, and at least this time he would have been in the arms of the one he loved. But his magic no. His magic was not something he could gift with so little care. His magical core was all Draco had left pure, all that he had been able to attain for himself. And he couldn´t let Harry touch it. Not this way.

Not in the wake of so much anger.

It felt wrong in all kind of levels.

So he made his magic fled further inside, hiding from Harry.

But the stubborn griffindor wasn´t giving up.

He had to know.

So he pressed harder, trying to enter it, to grasp the heart of mist just beyond reach. Malfoy strained to resist, escape his embrace, put physical distance between them. But he was weak and exhausted, nearly in shock, and Harry had no trouble retaining him inside his grip, whispering reassuring words as he surged stronger and stronger against barriers long gone in barely patched walls.  
Finally Draco´s natural magical resistance broke, and Harry's magic managed to get into his body.

"Ple... please ... no ..." – Malfoy sobbed weakly against his chest, fresh tears in his already moist eyes, broken, pleading. Trembling as if frozen under his calming back rubs.

Harry didn´t understand. Why was Draco putting up so much resistance? How could it look like he was hurting him more than the attempted rape he had just suffered, when he had been so good, and look fine, with his kisses and caresses? This shouldn't hurt. So why react so strongly?  
He didn´t mean any harm, but Draco didn´t seem to know what was happening. He looked so scared...

"Don´t cry."- Harry whispered in the fair, nearly white, hair. – "I just want to touch you, nothing else, I promise Draco." – It felt pleasantly warmth to pronounce his name. "Believe me." – And continued stroking his back reassuringly, while pushing a little more.

" ... Ung ..." -Draco stiffened and gasped, trying to stop it. The old griffindor could feel his resistance clearly, but he was much more powerful. If the auror had wanted it, he could have shot down easily, grab the core and end the painful looking struggle. But he didn´t want to hurt him, not even by accident. Just needed a touch, nothing more.

Draco made a last attempt to break free, but the auror continued grasping him against his chest without mercy, whispering words that tried to be reassuring but weren't.

Finally his magic broke the last barrier and touched the hearth hidden in the depths of Draco... and the blond man… collapsed completely in his arms, weeping, with no strength left for anything else.

Lukewarm.

Draco's magic was lukewarm. That was the first thing Harry felt. Like a cup of tea that has been left to cool, but still retains the incredible aroma and subtle flavor. It was crystalline, pure light, like Harry. But where he was golden sun, Draco was silver moonlight. Fragile delicacy, against vibrant strength.

There wasn´t darkness in his deeps, only sadness, an immense sadness that spoke of loneliness and resignation. And a love that warmed, gently, the broken edges of the fragile essence.

Harry felt his breath catch as the heart of Draco tentatively returned the caress. Sad, broken, as if just the motion hurt, but there was no mistaking the tiny glow in it.

_"Draco ... loves me?"_ - Someone with an essence so pure treasured him. The surprise and happiness made Harry smile and try to hug the so pure magic heart.

But when he tried to feel it more deeply something stopped him, another essence, another presence that felt like chains, dark, cold, around Draco's core. They were tied with pain, agony and suffering, a sorrow so intense that it threatened to choke the pure flame of spirit.

When he tried to reach the captured magic, the chains contracted painfully tearing a cry from Draco's throat. A sound full of pain bereft of words, that made Harry withdrew.  
_"What was that?"  
_  
"Draco?"

Head thrown back, eyes closed, body limp; Draco had fallen unconscious.

**oOo**

Hermione took a couple of steps into the room now that the magic wave had dissolved back into Harry, dodging a few pieces of what had been the closet, crystals and broken photo frames, finally coming to find Tomas still lying on the floor. A quick glance assured her that he was still alive. So she took his wand and threw a stupefy his way, just to make sure he stayed down for the time being.

Once satisfied, she looked to the bed… just in time to catch full picture of what lied in it.

She knew something had been wrong with her friend, but this was more than she had thought possible. Shocked, she watched Harry cuddle someone that could only be Malfoy.

If she hadn´t been looking at it right now, she never would have believed his best friend capable of employing so much tenderness in handling Draco Malfoy.

But there it was.

She hadn´t been able to see much until now, the magic that had prevented her from entering the room had dimed everything inside its barriers, but what she was glimpsing now was enough to make some sense of the recent attitude of Harry.

For a moment she nearly got angry. Why didn´t Harry say anything earlier? But she realized this wasn´t the time to start an argument. Wasn´t even sure about what was happening. So Mione decided to give her friend the benefit of the doubt… for now. They were going to have a serious conversation the instant they had Tomas secured.

She stopped beside the bed.

"Harry?"

Her friend looked up.

"Hermione?"

She froze.  
The look in those green eyes she loved like they were the ones of a brother, she had seen enough times before, to recognize now:  
Love.

For years she had wanted to see her best friend happily in love with a girl, especially since he gave up in searching for one himself.

But this was ... well, she hadn´t even though his friend might be gay.

"Harry ..." – Mione started, not knowing how to take it. – "Care to explain what's going on?"

The Auror looked at the inert figure in his arms. Only then Mione really noticed Malfoy.

Throughout the investigation had never arisen the notion of how could have the stay in Azkaban changed the old slytherin. Even when she discovered he was becoming a dementor, she didn´t really think about it.

That´s why the impact now was even greater than it could have been, had she been prepared.

"O God."- She whispered.

It seemed as though Malfoy had not grown an inch since the last time they saw each other during their sixth year at Hogwarts. He couldn´t be taller than Harry's shoulder line now, if anything, what he had done, was lose bulk. His long, thin bones could clearly be outlined under the too pale skin. Malfoy was so thin she knew he had to be sick.

The pale skin that should have been a perfect expansion of whiteness, but instead looked ashen, speaking of malnutrition and too long not seen sun. But what really shocked the female auror were the scars. If you didn´t look for them, they were white enough to pass unnoticed, but once noticed, they were clearly there; Signs of torture.

_"But torturing prisoners is forbidden."_ –Hermione looked at Tomas´s unconscious form. The realization of what he had done flooding her mind. _–"He was supposed to be a guard, should dispense justice. Was responsible for the welfare of the prisoners under his care!"- _ The unfathomable dislike she always felt for the ones who dared to corrupt justice, unfolded inside her breast much like liquid fire. It was the work of people like him, that so many wizards and witches, did not trust the ministry and their justice system even now.

Silently she vowed to see Tomas judged for his crimes.

At the same time his mind kept recalling the original beauty of the young Slytherin, from witch only his hair, so blond and shiny as the mane of a unicorn, was left.

And then, Harry turned to her, and she could see Malfoy´s face.

Rose thin lips like, delicately crisscrossed by tear trails sunken cheeks, like violet watercolor dark circles washed under long, almost white, lashes, completed the misery picture of fragileness, delicacy, and sadness so broken as to seem impossible to mend...

Hermione felt her heart shrink.

"That´s Malfoy?" - Whispered softly, almost afraid of waking him. She felt the sudden desire to hug the man against her chest and comfort him until the tears dried completely. But didn´t act upon it.

"Yes, he is. I will tell you what happened, just give me a moment to dress him." -

That was when Mione realized that under the shelter of Harry's body, Draco wore nothing. She quickly turned away, not wanting to see any more than necessary.

"I'll tie Tomas." - She returned to where the guard remained unconscious.

Harry looked around for the white robe, but it was nowhere to be seen. Until finally he saw what looked like gray cloth hanging over the edge of the bed. He picked it up thinking maybe the robe was under, but immediately recognized the immense soft touch under his fingers; It was Draco's robe.

_"It has become gray"_ – The auror didn´t know why, but seeing it´s new sad color made his heart sank. And while dressing the limp body, couldn´t help but realize how unhealthy the new hue made Draco look.

Finally the slytherin was decent and in Harrys arms, and Hermione had Tomas well tied and levitating behind her.

"Let's go to the guards rooms. I think we both need to grab some breakfast."

**oOo**

Harry looked into the cup held in his hands, at the dark tea, and his reflection in it. Something to stare at, while putting his thoughts in order.

They were in the guard's room, sitting at the only table of the small chamber. Between them spread about all the wood, they had the delicious breakfast brought by Kreacher, the first decent meal they had had in weeks, and yet none Harry none Hermione seemed to find the hunger to really enjoy it. Unable to take their minds off the latest developments.

Behind them were the three people who seemed to hold the key to end the investigation and clarify everything; Draco and Pansy unconscious in the mattresses, and Tomas, also unconscious, tied to a chair.

Neither Harry nor Hermione wanted to be the first to speak, and the minutes began to stretch taut until finally it was the male aurorthe one to break the silence.

"Hermione." - He looked up from the cup. –"Hear me out before making any decision, please." - Hermione was his best friend, had always supported him, even in the most difficult situations, when not even Ron had remained at his side. If someone could understand what he felt for Draco, it had to be her.

"All right Harry, I will hear you. You know you can tell me anything." – And extended her hand over Harrys on a reassuring gesture.

He nodded.

At first slowly, then with more and more confidence and speed, the story of how he came to fall in love with Draco Malfoy, started escaping his lips almost without thinking.

The deception of Viely, his feelings, the Dementor Lords torture, the needles, the moments together, their... their first time. Although this only made out his mouth for an instant, as a catalyst for everything that came later. And at the end:

"Look Hermione, I know it sounds crazy, but I'm in love with him. And know Draco feels the same." - The look in his eyes was unmistakable. Exactly the same gaze that lit his pupils every time he launched into a suicide mission, armed only with wand and courage.

Hermione sighed.

"Harry... you love him. I get it. But how can you be sure of his feelings? He could be using you to get rid of the curse, or to scape Azkaban. Or both. I know that now he looks like the epitome of innocence."- She glanced toward the mattress where the blond lay. – "But keep in mind who he is."

Harry smiled.

"I said it already Hermione. In this, I believe."

"Harry ..." - began Mione.

"No, Hermione. I'm not mistaken in this. I checked myself."

She shook her head in exasperation.

"The only way to know for sure is if you have used verisaterum, and we both know you did not because the only bottle we brought was the one I had in my backpack."

"I didn´t have to. I only had to touch the heart of his magic."-

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Can´t believe he let you do that ... Malfoy must really love you." –The end muttered almost to herself.

Harry frowned slightly.

"Well ...it´s not like I left him any other choice."

"You... forced him? - The horror made itself something almost palpable in the words.

"It was the only way to really know." -

PAM! Miones palms hit abruptly the table.

"Harry! I can´t believe what you've done! – She was furious. Harry got up in turn, ready to defend himself.

"I don´t understand why you're like this. Weren´t you saying that I had to make sure?"

"Aren´t you aware of what you've done?! Harry, to invade the magical heart of a wizard is considered worse than rape! And for someone like Malfoy who grew up with the notion of how important his magic is... Do you realize that for him, his magic is the most important thing?"

"I ... "- He swallowed.

_"No, no. Nonononono ... Harry ... enough."-_The memory exploded inside his brain, displaying in total clarity the pain laced in the too wide gray eyes. _  
_  
He stepped back like slapped.

"O my God." - Muttered.

_"Ple ... please ... no ..."-_Draco's desperation now so much understandable, so sick and wrong. _  
_  
Harry dropped shakily into the chair, feeling like he was going to get sick.

"Hermione ... What have I done?" - Barely whispered.

Hermione became silent, but after a moment, sighed, and approached her friend, putting her little hand on his broad shoulder, unable to remain angry when it was obvious Harry was berating himself already with any help. Actually, the auror looked like he was going to vomit or start sobbing any moment now. And he was her best and most cherished friend, even if he could be lots of unaware and rash when not really meaning to.

"You didn´t knew what you were doing." – She tried to be comforting, but Harry didn´t seem to be listening.

"He tried to warn me. Begged me not to." – One of his hands came to rest on his head pulling the hair there in despair. - "God, how could I…?" - Guilt threatened to drown him. The mere thought of Draco hurt because of him, hating him, made his heart clench and his blood quiver. Didn´t even register the notion of how three weeks ago, he would have whole heartedly returned the sentiment without any care.  
–"…He may hate me now..." – A mere whisper, but enough for Hermione to catch.

"Did you feel it? His hate for you?"

He looked at her blankly before answering.

"No ... just sadness. Why does that matter?"

Hermione smiled reassuringly.

"Then he doesn't hate you. If he had for what you did to him, you would have felt it in his core. If the only thing you did notice was sorrow, then it´s clear he didn´t enjoy the experience, but he doesn´t hate you. Even so, I would advise some serious apologizing as soon as he´s awake. Got it?-Se poked his chest.

Harry nodded and looked at Draco, deeply asleep in the mattress. If what Hermione had said was true, Draco still loved him.

He wanted to smile with relief, but wished he could cruciate himself too. Just to actually experience some pain of his own, instead of watching it fall upon fragile, already so hurt, Draco.

In that instant Tomas shifted weakly, and opened his eyes to find himself tied to a chair.

He glared at the two Aurors, between greasy matted hair.

"Can I know why I'm tied to a chair?" – An accusation and a breath of rage.

Harry was recovered and standing the next second, feeling the anger come back to the surface in need of vengeance and physical violence. Only keeping himself in check because of Hermione's presence not two feet to his left. But it didn´t stop him from coming dangerously close to the guard, like the snake that circles his prey. In his eyes could be clearly read what bordered on homicidal revulsion. If looks could kill Tomas wouldn´t be breathing now.

"Let's see ... How about for torturing and raping a prisoner for whose wellbeing you were responsible? – His voice made it out, in an oozing poison low hiss that made Tomas shudder unwillingly.

Hermione observed Harry, ready to stop him if necessary. She didn´t think he would do anything, not really, but his magic had been pretty unpredictable lately. Wouldn´t do for her best friend to become a murderer by accident.

Harry looked over his shoulder at her, like sensing her thoughts, avada color eyes full of barely contained ire, and magic starting to charge the atmosphere like a thunderstorm… but a moment later Harry shook his head and the pressure disappeared little by little.

Mione nodded at his action, relieved she didn´t have to try stop him. If Harry really had wanted Thomas dead, he would have been, no questions asked.

"Open his mouth, it's time these scum tell us what's happening here." – Mione pulled the verisaterum from her pocket.

Tomas tried to resist, but Harry got immense satisfaction in squeezing his jaw until they could hear the bone creaking dangerously under his fingers. The exorbitant look of pain decorating the guards face, just making his hold even more joyful.

Mione deposited three crystalline drops on his tongue, and finally, only when Tomas eyes began to cloud, Harry freed him from the punishing grip letting his friend handle the rest.

After inspecting his pupils and declaring the Verisaterum in full effect, Hermione began the questioning. Harry a little behind her, watching as his friend asked, not trusting himself to handle the conversation of feared he would end up killing the man, wand or not. This monster had hurt Draco.

Bus as an auror, he would strive to make the correct thing; bring him to court. But that didn´t mean he wasn´t going to put every effort in pressuring the judge, for Tomas to be sentenced to the Dementor kiss.

"Well, let's begin. Are you ready Harry?" – Asked Hermione.

The auror nodded and waved her friend to continue.

Satisfied, Hermione turned back to the now high guard.

"What is your name?" - Asked authoritatively.

"Tomas Cleawather." – Answered in a slightly groggy voice, eyes unfocused.

Hermione nodded to herself, it seemed the potion was really in full effect. Time for some more complicated matters.

"Why did you attack Draco Malfoy?"

"Because he deserved it."

_"Bullshit!"_ Harry hissed inwardly.

"Why do you think he deserved it?" - She continued undisturbed.

"Because he's the son of Lucius Malfoy, and a Death Eater." - Despite being under the influence of the potion, the hate that distilled his words burned not unlike acid.

Hermione frowned.

"Why do you hate him so much?" - Maybe that was the key to his madness.

"For being the son of Lucius Malfoy." - Just pronouncing his name was a curse is his lips.

"Lucius Did something to you?"- It was way too easy to see where this was heading to.

"He killed my wife and son. He doesn´t deserve to have a child." - The pain and hatred of that sentence, was enough to convince Hermione that the loss of his family had to be what had unbalanced his mind.

Harry could no longer remain silent.  
"Lucius was to one who killed your family, why did you have to torture Draco!?"- The furniture started shaking.

Tomas looked like he didn´t understand why the auror was so angry.

"Lucius is dead. - he said matter of flatly. - How other way would I be able to make him pay?"

The blow knocked him to the floor, chair included. The cup on the table exploded spilling tea over the surface, and dripping onto the stone floor.

"Harry that´s enough. Control yourself, or I'll have to ask you to leave." - Mione put the man and his chair up again with an effective levitation spell, but didn´t make any other move to help the guard.

Harry took a few laps around the room walking like a caged lion, taking deep breaths until he could calm down and return to the interrupted interrogation.

"I'm fine Mione. I'm fine. It was just a start. Won´t happen again."

Tomas's cheek was starting to bruise and swell, but despite being an expert in healing spells Hermione just left it as it was. In the background of her mind, she was darkly pleased with the pain he had to be under.  
No man so repugnant as to rape someone should have it easy.

"For how long have you been torturing Draco?"

"Will be seven years next month." - The satisfaction is his voice made her want to punch him this time.

_"He pretty much has been torturing him since Draco came into Azakaban. Dear God, at the time Draco had only been seventeen."_ She looked in horror at the monster; no one could ever do that to a child, not even after the death of their family.

The low growl at her back informed her that Harry had also come to the same conclusion. But this time the Auror got his ire mastered, even if very barely. The murderer heat of his aura could easily be perceived in the dim room. No need for so strong a magic, to be out the body of its owner to make its presence know.

Determined to get it over with, she pushed forward.

"Was you who cursed Draco with the dementor spell?"

"Yes."

That's what the woman had been dreading. _–"So not all information on the spell had been deleted."_- They must find and destroy the remainder as soon as possible. A magic so dark in the wrong hands ... she didn´t want to think about it.

"How did you get that information? Tell us everything."

"One of the elves found cleaning a half-burnt diary belonging to a former guard, and brought it to me to ask what to do with it. When I flipped through its pages, I found it containing old punishments for inmates. Decided to practice them in Malfoy. The most powerful one was that curse, but most of the explanation of its effects had been burned. I did not know exactly what it did, but it seemed so dark I assumed that whatever happened would make Malfoy suffer. That was all that mattered at the time."

"And then you had to include the Lord Dementor in the situation? - Harry knew that the needles weren´t Tomas thing. He was certain of it.

"The Dementor Lord found that Malfoy was becoming one them, and claimed him as his own. He took him from the cell. Threatened to kill Henry if I said a thing about it."

"Henry knows about this?" - The female auror asked.

"No, Henry knows nothing."

"Where`s the old diary?" – The should be done with it before any more dark curses made it to bad hands.

"In my room, under the mattress."

Hermione looked at Harry to see if he wanted to ask something else but it seemed that he was still trying to absorb what he had just heard. And she needed time to think. With a simple, quiet, estupefy, Tomas was made to sleep again.

"Harry, are you okay?" - Approached her friend.

"No Hermione. I'm not fine. And I don´t think I will be until that monster pays for what he has done." -

"I know. I want to see justice done. What he has done to Draco is unforgivable." - Harry was surprised to detect true hatred in his, normally calm, friend's voice.

A soft mumbled sound alerted both to Draco. Who seemed to be having a nightmare, new tears had begun to slip through his eyelashes, and his body trembles like dipped in icy wather.

In a moment Harry was beside him, stroking his back gently, trying to comfort and care for him.

_"He really does love him."_ Mione tought. Sadly, her instinct were telling her this wasn´t going to end well anyone involved.

**oOo**

When Hermione returned with the simple, brown, blackened by fire and eaten by the years, diary, she found Harry on his knees holding Draco's head in his lap, while running his hand through light blond hair, in caresses full of tenderness and whispered soothing words.

Draco was still sobbing quietly under his breath, trapped in the nightmare, but looked calmer and he didn´t tremble anymore.  
Harry looked at her approach the pain clear on his face.

"Hermione, I can´t wake him. I think it might be because of the curse. We have to release him." - The decision and urgency in his voice, made Hermione go to find Godric's journal secured in her pack.

"We should have done this before, but with all that has happened ..." - Sat next to his friend so that he too could read it.

As the first page opened, the elegant gold letter were already there.

"Morning Hermione."- The book wrote.

"Good morning."

"I can feel you're worried?" - She couldn´t help smiling at his care.

"Nothing that we aren´t going to repair. Could you help us?"

The elegant script didn´t need to be asked twice.

"Of course. What I can do for you dear?"

"We need to know how to undo the curse of the Dementor." - The page went blank for a moment before answering, the letter had a sad cadence.

"I'm sorry but I won´t be able to help. The Curse of the dementor is impossible to break."

**It will continue.**


End file.
